This is Not High School Musical
by nashie-chan
Summary: Disney has decided to go uberpromotional with their hit tween movie and their hit crossover game. With Sora, Riku, and Kairi otherwise occupied, the only ones left to cast are…the Organization? Oi vay.
1. Proposal

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize. Wish I did, but I don't. (sighs)

oOo

Revised: 2 April 2007

oOo

It started out as a typical non-existent day.

Yes, the narrator uses the word "typical" because that's how bad days usually start off. In fact, if your morning is frighteningly calm and similar to something out of the Brady Bunch, please be aware that by the end of the day, your car will have been stolen, your dog will have bitten you and run away, and you will have been informed that yes, Ryan Seacrast will be returning to host the next season of _American Idol_. After this last bit of depressing news, you will become reclusive and depressed and will never turn off the television without screaming "SEACREST OUT SEACREST OUT!!!"

Ahem.

Anyway, it started out as a typical non-existent day. The members of Organization XIII – those ever-so-popular villains from the second Kingdom Hearts game – were all lounging in various non-existent locations around their non-existent headquarters. The narrator continuously repeats the word "non-existent" to make sure that the reader knows that the Organization does not exist. They will remind you of it constantly, along with the fact that they have no hearts, that they want to create Kingdom Hearts to gain said hearts, and that that annoying happy-go-lucky keybearer named Sora was not doing his job fast enough, goshdarnit.

Numbers II through XIII were all currently occupied with fulfilling their greatest task at hand – avoiding Xemnas at all costs. They had all been pretty successful with that all morning (though the incident in the pantry with Demyx was certainly a close call, they all agreed), and most had retreated to their chambers.

Well, except for Number VIII and Number XIII.

For those few souls in the universe who don't know what these two look like, the narrator will digress. The Key of Destiny aka Sora's Other aka BHK aka Glowing-Eyed Nobody aka Number XIII aka Roxas is possibly the only member in the Organization to have so many aliases (other than Xemnas who is also known as Ansem, Xenahort, Number I, the Superior, and the fan favorite Mansex). He is the youngest member of the Organization, with spiky blonde hair and blue eyes that have been known to glare menacingly in typical emo-teenager fashion.

Number VIII, who will also answer to the name Axel (but not to any of the anagrams that have attempted to decipher his _real_ name, which Disney, ever so courteous, failed to tell us), is a tall, handsome fellow with green eyes and shockingly bright red hair. In typical Squeenix-fashion, his hair is spiky. And really hard to draw. The narrator knows this from experience. Axel is also unfeasibly thin, and therefore fits the qualifications for most _bishonen_.

Axel did not like to be included with this word "most".

In fact, he didn't really like to be included in anything that involved the other Organization members. Except for Roxas. Roxas was the exception – not that he and Roxas had _that_ kind of relationship. After all, can't two guys be really close friends without being snuggly? Or hugging each other? Or kissing each other? Or suddenly engaging in really descriptive, really hot bedroom scenes that involve a papou fruit and lots and lots of sturdy-

"The narrator better shut up or she'll be missing three limbs by tomorrow morning," growled Axel.

The narrator asks the reader to please forget the wonderful images the previous paragraph presented.

"Pervert."

Fangirl.

"Same thing."

Continuing on, the previously mentioned blonde was indeed walking alongside his best friend, and had studiously ignored everything that was in the "naughty" paragraph. In fact, he was trying very hard not to converse with the narrator at all, unlike what a certain redhead was attempting to do. After a few moments, he rolled his eyes. "Axel – remember the fourth wall?"

"What fourth wall?"

"_That_ fourth wall."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Axel then joined Roxas in ignoring the narrator. The two continued their walk down the very white hallways of the Castle That Never Was (which was appropriately located on the World That Never Was – along with losing their hearts, the Organization also apparently lost their skill for making up creative names…aside from their own, of course). They had just managed to avoid Xemnas coming down the hall in search of any his fellow Organization members by ducking through a smaller hallway and using some distracting dark portals to lure Xemnas away.

Roxas looked towards the ceiling. "How long do you think it'll be before he finds someone?" Axel shrugged.

"That incident in the pantry almost gave Demyx away…"

"You know, we never did find out what he was doing in there." A beat. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

The two would have continued their conversation, but lo and behold, a dark portal that appeared in front of them kept them from doing that. Before either of them could move, a man in a dark business suit stepped out, carrying a briefcase that looked like it was very expensive and very Italian. The portal disappeared behind him as he smoothed out the sleeve of the jacket and straightened his nice red tie. And it really was a nice tie – a very cheery, apple-hued red that made one want to dance, sing, and pretty much enjoy the wonderfulness of life.

Axel and Roxas stared blankly at the man who obviously wasn't a member of the Organization.

The man suddenly was aware that he had an audience and gave the two Nobodies a smile. "Hello, there."

The chakrams were in Axel's hands in an instant and he twirled them threateningly. "Who are you?" The man continued to smile as he reached into his pocket. Axel was positive he was about to whip out a weapon of Nobody caliber (in other words, extremely big, often garishly colorful, and usually unheard of in the typical role-playing genres), but instead, the man pulled out something even worse.

A business card.

"My name is Ralph. I believe I have an appointment with your Superior."

Roxas had grabbed the business card out of Ralph's hands and was staring at it with suspicion, flipping it around over and over again, as if waiting for something hideously grotesque to pop out of the tiny white rectangle. "Do you now?"

"Well, can't say we know anything about it," Axel replied, still holding his weapons, though he had lowered his offensive stance. Green eyes sparkled in curiosity. "What business do you have with him, anyway? It's not like we get your type around here everyday."

"Oh, no. I wouldn't think so. See, I'm a special kind of Nobody."

"How special?"

"I'm an Executive Nobody."

Both Axel and Roxas whistled below their breath. Impressive. Executive Nobodies were hard to come by. They were often seen at the very edge of the World That Never Was, duking it out with Lawyer Nobodies (which were, by the way, even more deceptive and evil than the Organization) and Yuppie Nobodies (who drove around in non-existent mini-vans and SUVs). Once upon a time, the Organization had tried to control these Nobodies, had eventually decided that they weren't that desperate, and left the three different types battling for non-existence at the edge of their world. _Good riddance_, was the thought among most of the Organization.

"Anyway, the Higher-Ups sent me to talk with your Superior. It seems there seems to be problem in a certain contract negotiation, and he's just the Nobody that can probably fix it up for us."

"What kind of contract negotiation?"

"Higher-Ups?"

"Well, I would love to answer your questions, but I'm on a schedule. I have lunch with two other Executive Nobodies at one o'clock, and I still have to send these negotiations back before then. So, if you'll just point me in the right direction…"

Roxas jerked his thumb down the hall. "Just wander around. He'll find you eventually if you don't try to hide."

"Much obliged, gentlemen."

With that, the Executive Nobody began his stroll down the hall. Behind him, the two Organization members shared dubious looks. They didn't need to say anything because they were both thinking the same thing. Just like soul mates. One can just look in the other's eyes and know their thoughts and feelings, and experience that deep sexual bond that can only be released through…

"The narrator shouldn't get on Axel's bad side," muttered Roxas, as he noticed a vein on Axel's forehead start to throb.

The narrator asks the reader to please ignore the contents of the previous paragraph.

"Thank you."

"Pervert."

oOo

Somewhere else in the Castle That Never Was, a very interesting conversation was taking place. The narrator feels it is her duty to relate said conversation with the reader since it will probably be crucial to the plot later on.

"Are those fake? They look fake."

"No, they're real, you imbecile."

"For real?"

"If you don't believe me, just touch them."

A pause.

"Oooh – they bounce."

A furious huff.

"You weren't actually supposed to touch them!"

"Now you've done it."

"You told me I could-!"

"You should probably apologize. You just don't go around touching-"

"Ah! Run! Run away!"

An audible vortex noise. And then silence.

"When I catch him, there will be hell to pay."

"You know him. He always enjoys touching things." A pause. "But he's right. They do bounce."

At that moment, Axel entered into the room via his own nifty dark portal. He seemed in a rush to say something, but stopped once he saw the scene in front of him. One eyebrow lifted, followed by the other one, and then something akin to a disbelieving snicker escaped from his mouth. "What in the world? What _is_ that thing?"

Vexen was crouching on the floor next to what can only be described as a...Cabbage Patch Kid. Its fat little head was peeking up from well…er…a cabbage, and it was smiling like some evil brat you'd have to baby-sit who already knew they were going to make life a living hell for you. "It appears to be a…" Words failed him, and he gave an eloquent shrug of his shoulder, pulling a notebook out of his pocket and beginning to write down a couple of notes.

Marluxia was also peering – glaring was more like it, actually – at the _thing _growing in the midst of otherwise beautiful flora and fauna. Blue eyes flickered dangerously, and Axel knew he probably only seconds away from pummeling the _thing _into oblivion with his scythe.

"That is possibly the ugliest thing I have ever seen," Axel finally managed to say, bending over and cautiously poking the thing in the head. It bounced happily, and Axel recoiled in disgust. "Nice to know you have a sense of humor, Marluxia."

"I did _not_ put that in here."

"Finally lost your touch, huh?"

"If you want to leave this room with all your body parts in working order, I suggest you be quiet."

Vexen was currently ignoring both of them as he continued to prod the cabbage child furiously. "Fascinating," he murmured before getting to his feet. He scanned over his notes and then gestured to the _thing _in question. "I'll take it down to my lab to study it. It has the most unusual attributes." Marluxia waved carelessly at the cabbage _thing_ before pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"I don't care what you do with it – just get it out of here."

The _thing_ promptly disappeared in a black portal with a "whee!" noise.

Axel crossed his arms. Now that the _thing _had been disposed of, he could finally get to the issue at hand. "Hey. I came here to tell you guys that an Executive Nobody showed up looking for Xemnas." This got their attention. Marluxia raised an eyebrow while Vexen's frown deepened at the mention of an Executive Nobody.

"What for?"

"Not sure. Something about a contract negotiation that Xemnas had to take care of."

"Sounds interesting."

"Sounds like a conspiracy," snorted Vexen, who had turned once again to his notebook.

"Sounds fun," Axel said with a grin. Without another word, he stepped back into a dark portal he just created, and teleported out. Nifty things those dark portals. The narrator asked for one on her birthday and only received a light saber instead (which she sold to Xemnas for fifteen hundred munny so he could be even cooler than Darth Maul with three light sabers instead of two). Beggars can't be choosers after all.

Vexen snapped his notebook shut and also turned to leave. He paused for a moment. "You're not going to find out what the meeting is about?"

"Snooping is for the immature members of the Organization."

The blonde-haired man raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself." And with he did that cool disappearing act too (the narrator makes sure to ask one of the Organization to teach her that trick for her next birthday). After he was gone, Marluxia turned his gaze at where the cabbage _thing _had been growing. A few seconds past before he let out a sigh and headed towards the door.

Of course, _asking_ one of the immature members wasn't breaking the rules.

oOo

Somewhere else, in a place that did indeed exist, a trio of people sat in a very important business room. The room was perfectly square with grey-blue carpeting and pale gray walls (except for the north wall which was entirely made of windows – of course that made rainy days even more gloomy). In the middle of the room sat a long table. Around said table only three people sat. Which sort of made the purpose of the table mute.

The three people were currently reading really, really thick stacks of paper that probably were dictionaries in their previous lives (or perhaps the RST encyclopaedia). The oldest of the three people in the room, a handsome blonde with serious gray-blue eyes, sighed miserably as he sat back in his chair, tapping his ink pen on his forehead in a sign of quickly growing irritation. "Is anyone past page two hundred and thirty-six?"

The blonde girl sitting across from him rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Try page one hundred and sixty-two. God, I don't even know what half of those words meant in that introduction." She sat back, reaching for her latte, gray-blue eyes stormy. "Why in the world do they want us to go through all of this?"

"Promotion?" the other young man with a mop of brown hair said, tugging the sleeve of his jacket. "Or just enough to drive us crazy? Because it's working."

A moment.

"Anyone figure out why the other two didn't have to come?"

"They called in sick. And the Higher-Ups actually believed them."

"For real?"

"I am so calling in sick tomorrow."

The brown-haired boy pulled a cellphone from his pocket (one of those really nifty new ones that has all the keys on the keyboard on it, and a screen for taking pictures, and surfing the internet, and sending text messages, and playing really awesome games and listening to ringtones – and even more amazing, you can actually _call_ people on it!). "She says they're going to try to break us out. We should meet them in the cafeteria at eleven thirty."

"Exactly where are they going to break us out to? We can't go anywhere without-"

The blonde girl interrupted, "There's an awesome place for coffee around here…"

"Where?"

"The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf."

A moment of silence. The narrator would like to inform the reader that if they haven't heard of the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, the reader has not been reading enough tabloids lately.

Obviously, neither had the two boys because they were still staring blankly at the girl. She sighed.

"You guys are both culturally illiterate."

Amen to that.

oOo

Back in the World That Never Was, Ralph the Executive Nobody had finally found Xemnas. No matter that the search had taken the better part of an hour, and when he had found Xemnas, he had nearly been sliced in two by the Superior's non-light sabers. When the gray-haired man realized that this Nobody was not one of the twelve he was actually looking for, he had been a little less than pleased.

After some very fast talking, Ralph finally managed to convince Xemnas that no – he was not in on some prank constructed by Axel, Roxas, Demyx, or Xigbar, no – he did not know who in the world Xaldin was and why he had lost some bet to a fellow named Luxord, and yes – his briefcase was very expensive and very Italian and the red tie had cost a lot of munny. Of course, the last question had throne him for a loop and he almost lost his head when he failed to answer right away.

"So, what exactly is your purpose here?" Xemnas finally asked after studying Ralph for a moment. Ralph waved his hand, and in a poof of dark nothingness, a folder appeared in his hand. He handed over to the Superior with a very serious look.

"Contract negotiations."

"Concerning what, may I ask?"

"A few…promotional assets encouraged by the Higher-Ups." Xemnas opened the folder and began flipping through the pages. After a few moments of silence (during which Xemnas' left eyebrow continued to rise higher and higher), Ralph finally cleared his throat. "As you can see, we're in a bit of a bind. The usual three who would have been contracted into doing this have conflicting schedules that won't allow them to engage in the promotional activity."

Xemnas gave Ralph a Look. "You mean, they refused to do it?"

"Er…basically." Ralph shrugged. "Unfortunately, since their contracts were instituted before yours, the Higher-Ups are in a position where they can't force them to do anything they don't want to."

"This Organization is not a fallback-"

"No, no, no. Of course not. But the Higher-Ups are insisting."

Xemnas glared at the unfortunate Nobody. "We have far more important things to do than help your Higher-Ups with some farce because the keyblade master and his two friends refuse to comply. I decline."

"What if I said that the Higher-Ups ensured nothing like this will ever happen again?"

"No."

"What if I said that your entire mission will be fully backed financially if you agree?"

"No."

A pause.

"What if I said this would be perfect revenge against the rest of Organization for slacking off today and would guarantee that after this, they would never slack off again due to fear of even more public humiliation and therefore would assure the completion of Kingdom Hearts within a month's time?"

A longer pause.

"Then I would say where do I sign?"

Ralph grinned – worked every time.

oOo

At this moment, the narrator would like to break into a brief interlude to give her own opinion of the Organization itself. They are some pretty cool villains because they're undeniably evil _and_ because they really can't be held accountable for what they're doing. After all, is it their fault that their Others had really strong hearts? Is it their fault that their Others' hearts were consumed by the Heartless? Is it their fault that they don't have any emotions (canon-wise, at least)? The narrator strongly emphasizes, "No!" and would like to give Sora a nice firm kick in the butt next time she sees him for killing off so many of the Organization members.

Thanks a lot, Sora.

Also, considering the amount of angst usually associated with these thirteen unfortunate un-souls, the narrator would like to say that most of them (the jury is still hotly debating the case of Number IX) are pretty darn mature. Save for that incident in the kitchen a few months back involving the Pudding of Naught and a prank slash dare gone horribly wrong (the Organization later agreed that blame for the now famous pudding incident would be placed on Lexaeus simply because he was the only person who walked out of the kitchen without resembling the inside of the refrigerator).

Yes, the Organization is insufferably cool.

And really mature.

"We have to do _WHAT_!?!?"

And this is where that whole 'mature' image must be shattered.

Well, at least for the remainder of the story.

oOo

**Author's Note (**6 January 2007): Oh my god, why? Why in the world would I even consider a crossover between the infamous _High School Musical_ and my beloved _Kingdom Hearts_? Why would I force the Organization into the cookie-cutter songs and dances of a Disney musical?

Well, probably because I'm evil. (smile)

Um, don't know where this idea actually came from. I think I was just watching HSM one day and realized a certain connection(s) that HSM had to KH and, well, everything went downhill from there. I'll be alternating between this story and my other, more-serious work **Somebody, Somewhere, Someday** (also another KH fanfiction – check it out!).

Yeah, it's gonna be a scary ride.

In the next chapter, the Organization reacts to the roles the roles they've been given, we find out a little more about the poor trio stuck with the contracts, and the Higher-Ups plot more!

See you then!

- Nashie


	2. Casting

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize. Sorry to disappoint.

oOo

Revised: 2 April 2007

oOo

In many stories, certain information about the characters is omitted. Whether this is due to the author's negligence or simply because such statistics seem unimportant, these facts are often left up to the reader's imagination. After all, there is only so much a story can tell about a certain character without reading like a police report. And it wouldn't be much fun to read either.

The author places great trust in the reader, believing that most of them are capable of rendering the background or vital statistics of the character for themselves. In fandom, this can often lead to heated arguments on the character themselves. If you don't believe the narrator, go into any discussion board and raise a question about a character's lineage/hair color/weight/sexual preference/favorite food/most traumatizing life moment, and you're bound to be swept away in a digital flood of infuriated posts.

The same is true with _Kingdom Hearts_. After all, Squeenix and Disney only provided so much information on their characters. And even that is contradictory sometimes (c'mon, do you actually think Riku is only a year older than Sora? Either that or he has some really, really, really good genes). Either way, information about certain characters is scarce – such as age, for instance.

But the narrator believes it is safe to say that the Others of twelve out of the thirteen Organization members were out of high school when their hearts were taken.

And considering how socially traumatic high school is, it is perfectly understandable why many were a tad bit unhappy about going back.

"You're not _serious_, are you?"

"High school?! _High school?!_ Are you _nuts_?!?!?"

"There is absolutely no way you're sending me back to that hellhole."

"I'd rather French kiss Xaldin then-"

"Ewwww…"

"Do we _have_ to?"

Organization XIII was currently gathered in the Meeting Room of Non-Existence. The black-cloaked members contrasted sharply with the all white room (the narrator would like to point out that the only reason that so many places in the Castle That Never Was were painted white was because it happened to be the cheapest color at Home Depot the day the first six Organization members went a-painting) – not that said members noticed or cared. Most were currently miserably reflecting on the proposal Xemnas had just given them.

The Superior crossed his arms. "There is no argument against this – you've all brought this on yourselves." His golden eyes narrowed. "And if you dare defy this order…"

"I swear, nothing can be worse than going back to high school," muttered Larxene, blue eyes raging. Just to show how peeved she was, electric sparks danced about her. One has to wonder – with all that electricity, does she manage to pick up any radio or television transmissions via her hair antenna. Just a thought.

"What was that, Number XII?" Xemnas shot the only female member of the Organization member a look.

"Just saying that non-life sucks."

Of all the Organization members in the room, the only one who didn't seem to have a problem with going back to high school was Roxas. And the only reason he didn't have a problem with it was because he didn't remember it (thanks, Kairi). So he watched the older members scowl, mutter, groan, and whine about this "hell on earth" and wondered what in the world was so bad about it.

He asked this question out loud.

Eleven pairs of eyes turned his way.

"What's bad about high school?" Demyx sighed. "How about everything from freshman year to senior year? It was one thing after another. Stupid cliques, stupid tests…"

"Prom…"

"College entrance exams…"

"The cafeteria…"

"The teachers…"

"Pep rallies." At this, they all groaned. Roxas was starting to wonder what in the world half of the things listed were, but decided not to ask again. It probably wouldn't be good for his mental health anyway.

Ralph, the Executive Nobody, had currently not said a word. He was thinking of protecting his physical wellbeing for as long as possible. With the current agitated mood of over half of the Organization, he decided that shutting up and staying shut up was his best chance at staying alive. The Higher-Ups hadn't given him health insurance after all – why would a Nobody need it anyway, they had reasoned? The narrator would like say that this line of thought also has extended down into the existent work force, and is taking any suggestions for jobs that do have health insurance.

"Is there a reason why we have to do this?" asked Luxord. "I don't see how it benefits any of us."

"Not like half of us are young enough to do it anyway," Lexaeus noted, crossing his arms. "The only likely candidate here is Roxas."

Roxas blinked.

Ralph cleared his throat, and immediately regretted doing so. He didn't enjoy the threats of very serious physical harm that was gleaming in the eyes of the people who had turned to glare at him. He was going to have to pull out some tricks he had learned from a Lawyer Nobody (whose name was Frank, by the way, and could not make an appearance in this story due to a guest spot on _Xoprah_).

"Listen, I know a lot of you are unhappy with this, but the Higher-Ups are in a real pinch here," he said quickly as he opened his briefcase and began rummaging through it. "We know that you're all very busy with trying to complete Kingdom Hearts – very important, very urgent, top of your list, and all that. And don't think there's nothing in it for you. After all, this movie has a very high tween following – think of all those pure hearts!"

Infuriated silence.

Ralph held up the documents he had been searching for. "Well, your Superior said yes. So I guess it doesn't really matter what I pitch to you, hmm?" With a wave of his hand, the documents in his hand poofed and reappeared in the laps of ten out of the thirteen Organization members. Other than Xemnas, the two who didn't get scripts looked pleasantly surprised.

"Anybody else feeling harsh resentment – so to speak?" Xigbar asked, glaring at Vexen and Luxord.

"Tons," replied Axel, looking at the script in his hand. On the front page, there was the title of the movie, the director, some of other information that probably goes on the front of scripts, and then, in quotation marks, a name. "Who in the world is Chad?"

"Um…your character?"

"His name is _Chad_?!?"

The ten Nobodies who had gotten the scripts all looked towards the title page in barely concealed disgust. For a moment, there was complete and utter silence. It was one of those really, really tense silences where a war would probably erupt if anybody dared even bat an eyelash. Or breathed. Or digested some spaghetti. Or something along those lines. But it was quiet. And then…

"We're TWINS?!?!?"

"A drama teacher?"

"I don't even think I'm tall enough to play basketball…"

"This part was written for fifteen-year-old _girl_!"

"Sweet! I'm the principal!"

"How come Xigbar gets to be the principal?"

"Is this because we're both blonde?"

" Chad. What a stupid name. This is bullsh-"

"Silence!" Xemnas interrupted. There was silence – not exactly an agreeable silence, but still silence nonetheless. The Organization's Superior looked down at Ralph. "Are we through here?"

"Yes. I'll go and report to the Higher-Ups on your agreement."

"Then you can come back here so I can shove my chakram up your-"

"Number VIII!"

"…"

Roxas was the only one of the ten who hadn't made a comment on the name or the description that was written on the title sheet. He had flipped through the script, wincing at some of the songs (especially at the number of songs he'd have to sing), and sighed, running a hand through blonde locks. He peered at the description again, and a knot of what could only be described as fear in any existent person formed in his stomach.

If he was supposed to be this Troy Bolton person, who in the world was playing Gabriella?

oOo

The narrator suggests that we leave Roxas with his thoughts (since the reader is probably thinking up many multiple crack pairings for the poor boy), and catch up with the unfortunate nameless trio from last chapter. The three had managed to escape from the stereotypical office room, abandoning their three-inch thick reading material, and had found their way into the cafeteria, which was currently almost deserted. Since it was the hour just before lunch, they figured that most of the crazy Higher-Ups were still in their rooms making "lunch plans". That would probably mean something very expensive and involving talk about three-inch thick reading material.

The three young people walked to the vending machines on the far side of the room, and rummaged through their pockets for change. Except for the girl. She was still drinking her latte, and playing look-out. "Any word from her yet?"

"She says they're around five minutes away. They couldn't come in through the gate."

"The Higher-Ups would know they were lying then about being sick. Whose car are they driving?"

"His."

"Wonderful," the girl commented, tossing her now empty cup into a nearby trash bin (for you green thumb people out there, lets just say it was a recycling bin). "As long the Higher-Ups don't follow us." The brunette finally managed to pull a few coins from his pocket, and stared at the selection before him. The narrator is pretty sure that you can never find anything reasonably healthy in a vending machine – the healthiest thing probably has three-hundred calories and fifteen-plus grams of fat.

Finally deciding on the only thing worth deciding on – a Milky Way with its caramel-y goodness – the boy tossed in his change and waited. And waited. And waited. He checked the little digital screen – the right amount clearly showed on it. His eyes narrowed. "This thing ate my money."

The oldest of the three – who had happily retrieved a bag of Doritos – glanced at the offending machine. "Kick it?" he suggested helpfully.

The machine was kicked.

"Hmmm…push enter again?"

The machine still stood tauntingly.

"Try coin return?"

The machine failed to comply.

"Try all three at the same time."

The machine was beginning to wonder if they would just let it be.

"Boys," came a gently chiding voice. "Don't you see this needs a woman's touch?"

The machine received a nice womanly roundhouse kick.

Deciding that keeping its contents wasn't worth the physical abuse, the machine sadly coughed up the Milky Way, and promptly turned itself off. Stupid teenagers.

As the youngest boy grinned and began to unwrap the chocolate bar, a man happened to walk by. Sadly for the three youngsters, this wasn't just any man – he was a security guard. In fact, as luck would have it, he was the same security guard who had been on the floor with the gloomy office earlier. In fact, he was the same guard who had been told to watch off for the three young people under his care. And if the coincidences weren't enough, he was actually the father of all three of them and was really an actor just pretending to be a guard for the hell of it (okay, not really – that would actually be really creepy if it were…)

Either way, the guard definitely recognized them.

"Aren't you three supposed to be upstairs?"

The three shared looks that clearly said "busted." The guard noticed the looks too. He crossed his arms and smirked with that ever-so-condescending smirk that people learn once they become adults. He clucked his tongue. "Now, now. I was told that you three were supposed to stay in that room-"

A half-eaten Milky Way bar bopped him in the forehead.

"Run for it!"

With the guard stunned by the Milky Way Super Samurai Ultima Finale Attack, the three raced out of the cafeteria and towards the front hall, hoping that somehow their friend hadn't managed to crash his car in coming to save them.

oOo

Somewhere else in the building, a cheerful meeting was taking place in a cheerfully painted room while a cheerful sun shone brightly through cheerful windows. Well, maybe not everything was that cheery, but it was pretty darn close. In fact, it was a pretty darn good day as far as He could tell. In fact, He began whistling a cheerful tune wandered through his mind as He began to conclude his discussion.

"So, with the compliance of the Organization's Superior, we can finally proceed with the promotional activity," He said brightly. The comment was met with very eager nods of the ahead and "hmm-hmms" of approval. He grinned. "I almost thought we were in a rut there with Sora, Kairi, and Riku…ahem, disagreeing to certain aspects of the agreement. But I'm sure they'll come around."

"Is that why those three are visiting us today?" a woman asked.

"Partly. We're working out contract negotiations for their involvement with the activity."

"And the other two?"

The man suddenly grinned – it was by no-means an evil grin. In fact, one could say it was a fatherly grin. If your father was planning some deviously secretive behind your back that would ultimately cause the world's order as we know it to be flushed down the toilet in a swirly of uber-destruction.

"Ah, of course. With their involvement, the entire Organization, and that little witch Naminé will be completely under our control!"

…the narrator thinks there was a little too much caffeine in the coffee today.

oOo

Somewhere else in the Castle That Never Was, Naminé was drawing.

Who is Naminé, the uninformed reader might ask. Well, this lovely little blonde damsel who may weigh eighty pounds soaking wet is the sweetheart who warped or stole all of Sora's memories, put him in hyperfreeze for a year, and then told Roxas he was never supposed to exist. Oh, and she's Kairi's Nobody, so she's über-pure of non-heart. And she's a witch. And an artist.

One would be surprised that Naminé is actually quite an accomplished little artist. She has recreated with exceptional detail the works of Van Gough, Monet, Picasso, and even da Vinci (of course, her version of "The Last Supper" wasn't brought to public media attention by a book which may or may not blatantly unravel the whole basis of Christianity as we know it – Demyx thought it was cool-looking though, if that counts). Unfortunately for the young woman, Xemnas thought that recreating masterpieces was a waste of time, and took away her acrylic paints and gave her colored pencils.

So Naminé looked at her colored pencils and drew Dalí's _The Persistence of Memory_.

Xemnas wasn't amused. He took Naminé's colored pencils and replaced them with some Crayola crayons. Nice ones, at least (Naminé later found out that Vexen had stolen her Dalí and put in his lab).

So Naminé looked at her nice Crayola crayons and drew Wood's _American Gothic_.

The only way Xemnas actually found out about this recreation was the fact that Axel had made some off-handed remark how Larxene looked like the old woman in the picture. The resulting argument (and destruction of the southern wall in the Proof of Existence) had led Xemnas to wonder how Axel would know what in the world _American_ _Gothic_ was is the first place.

When he found out, he took Naminé's nice Crayola crayons and gave her the really big ones that it takes your entire first to hold and that most people outgrew after kindergarten (this would explain the really messy drawings in the White Room). Naminé had been very depressed for a month until Marluxia gave her a really big box of colored pencils out of the blue (she later found out that it was because he really liked her Georgia O'Keefe recreations).

Suffice to say, Naminé could draw her little hands off.

She was currently doodling when Roxas (who had somehow managed to escape the reader's devious ideas for crack pairings) walked into her room. In one hand, he held a folder, and in the other…a basketball? Naminé was decidedly confused. "Um…Roxas?"

"I'm the captain of the basketball team." He glanced at the script. "I have to… get my head in the game? What? That's stupid."

"Roxas?"

The young man sighed and sank into a nearby chair. "Xemnas signed us up for this stupid "promotional" thing. We have to do something called _High School Musical_." He shrugged. "The others aren't too happy about it. Something about high school being worse than the devil's playground."

Naminé looked at the script. "And you're…the captain of a basketball team?"

"Yeah."

"Do you even know how to play basketball?"

Roxas frowned. "It's that thing with the home runs, right?"

"Um…that's baseball."

"Touchdowns?"

"American football."

"Goals?"

"Football, for the rest of the world."

By now, Roxas looked extremely perplexed. Naminé sighed, turning a page in her notebook and quickly drew a picture. Finishing with a flourish, she turned the page towards Roxas. On the page was a stick figure with blonde hair that may or may not have been Roxas in some previous life. The stick figure was throwing something resembling a basketball (but really looked more like a possum) towards something resembling a hoop (but really looked more like Donald Trump's combover).

Hey, it takes time to draw a masterpiece.

Roxas stared at the picture and then stared at the basketball. "Yeah, I still can't play…"

Naminé grinned up at him. "I'm sure you'll do fine." She put her drawing pad down, and leaned forward. "So, how do the others like their parts?" Roxas snorted.

"Axel hates his character's name, Larxene is less than thrilled about being Demyx's twin sister, and Xaldin speared all the basketballs Ralph tried to give him," the blonde boy said, rolling his eyes. "Though Xigbar likes his part. That scares me a little bit." He frowned. "And I still don't know who's playing Gabriella. No one said anything…"

"I am."

"Huh?"

Naminé reached over to her white desk and held up a document. On the script front was all the stuff that went on a script's title page, and, in quotation marks, the name "Gabriella Montez". 'The Executive Nobody came in and gave me the script. And then he said something about sexist organizations and lawsuits and someone named Frank. Then he left." She began flipping through the script. "It seems interesting."

Roxas peered over her shoulder. "So I guess we're singing duets."

"It's the start of something new."

"That's stupid too."

Naminé laughed. "Yeah. You're right, Roxas." She put the script down on her lap and then stood up. "So I guess we had better practice. You need to learn how to play basketball! And dance!" Roxas made a face. "Oh, it won't be that bad. Look at this way – Axel has to learn too."

Roxas found strange amusement in that fact. As should the reader – after all, have you seen the dance moves for "Getcha Head In The Game"? The narrator would like the reader to think about this – and then think about Axel doing these dance moves.

Okay?

Okay.

Okay…you can stop laughing now. No, seriously. The narrator has to continue the story. Thank you.

"When does filming-?"

The narrator would like to know why the reader is still laughing. Yes, the narrator is aware that it is even funnier picturing Xaldin dancing to that song. But the narrator can't continue the story if the reader is still giggling.

Are you done?

Thank you.

"Aren't you supposed to stay behind the fourth wall?" Roxas asked, slightly miffed at being cut off earlier.

The narrator would like to point out that in this story, the fourth wall is obviously optional and that Roxas has no say in whether the narrator can put in her two cents or not. If Roxas has a problem with the narrator cutting in, then he should go talk to the Higher-Ups.

"Well, isn't someone in a bad mood today?"

The narrator had a bad day at work.

Naminé coughed politely. "We should probably move on with the plot."

The narrator agrees.

Roxas sighed, and held the basketball under his arm. "So, when does filming start?"

"Soon, I think. We're filming in chronological order, so I guess we'll be singing first." Naminé clasped her hands behind her back and rocked forward. "Besides, it'll have to start soon. The reader probably doesn't want to know about pre-production anyway."

"Hmmm…" Roxas murmured thoughtfully. He finally gave a small grin. "Makes sense. I had better go, anyway. I think I need to learn this 'fake right, break left' stuff that I have to sing about." Naminé smiled, and wiped a loose strand of pale hair behind her ear. She picked up her drawing pad and her colored pencils, and gave Roxas an encouraging look.

"It'll be fun Roxas. Don't worry."

The thirteenth member of the Organization chuckled and, conjuring up a dark portal, left the room. Naminé watched him go with a thoughtful look on her face, and suddenly began to draw again. Minutes passed in silence, except for the scratch of colored pencil on paper as a picture began to take shape.

Anyway, while Naminé was drawing and unknowingly creating another plot line, a dark shadow appeared behind her. It wasn't very subtle – after all, you can't exactly miss a big, swirling vortex in the middle of all-white room. It would be like missing Dennis Rodman at a cotillion – impossible. But either way, by some miraculous event or just plain obliviousness, Naminé did not notice the portal. Neither did she notice the young man who stepped out of it. Neither did she notice him reaching his arm out to grab her shoulder. Neither did she notice-

"Hi, Riku."

The narrator would like to say that Naminé is a spoilsport.

The silver-haired youth sighed and crossed his arms, looking slightly cross. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Because of that sign." Naminé pointed to the blinking neon sign behind Riku which read "ANGST" in bright blue letters. Subtle, eh?

"I've been trying to get of that thing for the past two months."

"Well, at least it doesn't say "open"."

A moment of silence.

"You know, Naminé, the readers can take that in the completely wrong way."

"Yes. I know."

Riku rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You say things like that, and I wonder why I'm rescuing you." This caught Naminé's attention. She turned around in her chair and peered up at Riku.

"Rescue me? From what?"

"Death."

And on that cheery note, we'll leave those two to discuss Naminé's future…or lack of one.

oOo

**Author's Note** ( 12 January 2007): Shorter than last chapter and a lot of exposition. If you're wondering when the singing and dancing starts, I guess you'll have to tune in for the next chapter, eh? Yeah, I'm evil, I know.

Let's see, what to say? Um, thanks for the reviews and the hits and the favorites! I felt pretty darn special when I looked at my profile. "They like me, they really like me!" And that kind of response makes me really want to finish this story. I suggest that all the readers who haven't seen _High School Musical_ (yeah, both of you) should definitely check it out or else you might be mighty lost with jokes on the dance sequences or characters.

As for the nameless trio…well, if you can guess who they are, ten digital bucks for you. But don't say anything – all will be revealed in due time. Har-har-har.

And who said anything about this chapter's cast being written in stone? (innocent whistle)

Until next chapter!

- Nashie


	3. Missing

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: (looks up from newspaper) Still asking about that? No – I still don't own 'em.

oOo

Revised: 2 April 2007

oOo

There are a lot of non-existent rooms in the Castle That Never Was. Most of the readers probably know this from the last leg of a certain game while exploring said castle. And many of the rooms have quite interesting, if a tad bit redundant names – the Altar of Naught, Nothing's Call, Proof of Existence (the narrator is stealing the thesaurus Disney and Squeenix provided the Organization, and is giving them instead something even better – a baby name book).

Of all the non-existent rooms in the Castle, most of them serve the basic purpose of meeting the needs of the Organization. Though after the incident with the Pudding of Naught, the kitchen was hereby turned over to Zexion (and neither Saïx nor Axel were permitted within a hundred yards of the kitchen after the disastrous mess that will live in non-infamy).

Ahem.

Anyway, as the narrator was saying, most of the rooms in the Castle That Never Was all serve a purpose.

Including the new Oblivion Gym.

The narrator makes the note to send the Organization that baby book as soon as possible.

The gym was a pretty high-tech little space. Since Lexaeus refused to allow any of his wayward comrades into his own private gym, Xemnas had quickly conjured up another room in the castle a la Harry Potter (Demyx's reference to the boy wizard caused the poor blonde to be on the receiving end of Xemnas' non-light sabers). It was a nice gym, nonetheless – it didn't have those irritating orange lights that seem to be the defining feature of every high school gym in the world.

And most importantly, it had a basketball court.

The gym was currently quiet, except for the noise of air leaking from the basketballs Xaldin had deflated when he realized what his part was. Flattened basketballs lay scattered all over the polished floor, mere shadows of their former glory. With the overbearing quiet in the room, it seemed as if all of the Organization members were making it a point to avoid the gym at all costs to their sanity.

Then came the noise of a bouncing basketball.

It started off slow, as the person bouncing the ball wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Then – a repetitive dribble. The black-cloaked figure who was dribbling slowly made their way to mid-court, glancing up at the hoop that towered overhead a few yards away. The dribble slowed back down to its previous pace – and then stopped. A moment of contemplation. Then, he aimed…and scored a very precise three-pointer.

The ball bounced off into the sidelines as the Organization member crossed his arms with a satisfied look on his face.

"You're not actually getting into this, are you?" He didn't even glance over his shoulder as a blonde sauntered into the room, looking at the massacred basketballs littering the floor. "Everyone else is putting off learning their lines as much as possible, and you're in here throwing hoops."

"Shooting hoops, actually."

"See – you even have the lingo down!" Demyx sat on the lowest bleachers, resting his elbows on his knees. "I thought you said you couldn't even play basketball." The still hooded Organization member shrugged and walked over to grab the basketball from earlier, and Demyx snorted, rolling his eyes. "Or is that just something to tell the others so you can run circles around them when we have to do this?"

"You don't have to."

Demyx made a face. "No. I have to dance with Larxene. Which is almost as bad, if not worse." He waved his hand in the air, and a dark cloud poofed just above his hand, dropping a disc into his hand. "I just saw the movie. And my character – he wears hats. All the time. I'm not wearing any hats."

"Don't wear hats then."

"You make it sound so simple."

"You really should stop whining about it."

"I'm not whining."

"Oh, really?" Demyx was sure he saw an eyebrow raised under the hood, and he pouted. Demyx pouting is possibly the third most cutest thing ever, right under Roxas' pouting and Welsh Corgi puppies. Seriously – the narrator suggests that the reader go over to YouTube and find a video on Welsh Corgi puppies. You will immediately become a diabetic from the cuteness of it.

The ninth member of the Organization decided that he didn't really want to be teased by the higher-ranking member, and jogged over, snatching the basketball right out of the shorter youth's hands. A wide grin spread onto his face. "Try and get it now!" The other member scowled and lowered his hood, revealing bluish-gray hair long enough to cover one of his eyes.

"That's traveling, Demyx," Zexion muttered as Demyx ran away from him with the orange ball still in his hands. With a sigh (an especially exaggerated one as Demyx shot the basketball at the hoop and missed), he realized the only he was getting his basketball back was to play against Demyx.

And considering his surprisingly good skills, that may not be much of a challenge at all.

oOo

In last chapter, the narrator left the reader with a decidedly nail-biting cliffhanger. And since the narrator may consider herself evil, but not sadistic, she will reveal the rest of the conversation between a certain young blonde artistic witch and a Keyblade-wielding, angst-attracting hero. Oh, the ideas the narrator could come up with that pairing.

But anyway…

"Death?" Naminé asked, blinking big blue eyes in incomprehension. She understood exactly what "death" meant – well, in terms that may or may not relate to the existence or non-existence of Nobodies – but what she didn't understand was why someone would want to kill her. After all, she hadn't done anything to harm anybody. She was as innocent and pure as they came. Well, of course, there was that whole incident with Sora in Castle Oblivion, but that doesn't really count. After all, if you were locked up in a castle all day with people like Marluxia, Larxene, Zexion, and Vexen as your babysitters, you would be looking for the quickest way out too.

Riku nodded. "Yeah."

"Why?"

The silver-haired youth sighed, and ran his hand through his hair (in the process, causing thousands of fangirls around the world to squeal and faint and post a number of yaoi fanfics on the web). "Well, I guess it's a bit complicated to explain. When Sora, Kairi, and I were approached by the Higher-Ups to do this musical thing, we turned it down right away. Then, they came to you guys. And that's were the problem is."

Playing along with the growing suspense, Naminé cocked her head to the side. "Well, I know that a lot of the members of the Organization aren't the nicest people in town. And Roxas is technically the only one of them who could even really be in high school. But, I don't get-"

"Naminé, I have a question for you. Exactly how many girls are there in the Castle That Never Was?"

"Um…three."

Riku blinked. "Three? Wait a second…"

"Well, there is Marluxia…"

The older youth sighed, and shook his head. "Not counting the fanfic-portrayal of Marluxia, how many girls are there in the Castle That Never Was?"

"Two."

"Right. And how many leading female parts are there in _High School Musical_?"

"Four. Five, if you count Ms. Darbus."

"And of these girls, how many end up with one of the boys by the end of the movie?"

Naminé went very silent as it suddenly sank in. Hands shaking, she stared down at the picture in her hand that she had been drawing and looked something akin to terrified. "The fangirls…" she murmured. Riku nodded, and Naminé took in a shaky breath. "I see what you mean. I mean, I know the Higher-Ups have rules and everything, but they really don't know the power of the fangirls, do they?"

Riku shook his head. "No. Which is probably why they cast the parts as they did." He looked very serious suddenly. "And that's why we have to get you out of here."

"'We?'"

"Whose idea do you think this was?" said the secondary keyblade master with a small smile on his face. "Kairi first noted the problem with the fangirls, and it was Sora's idea to get you out of here before bad things started to happen. And he was the first to mention that you are already linked to _High School Musical_, so it's not like the Higher-Ups can force you to do it." It seemed to be one surprise after another for Naminé, and she stared up at Riku as if she had had it up to here with the number of revelations he was dropping on her.

"How?"

"I can't tell you that. That's the narrator's job."

The narrator is trying to stay behind the fourth wall, thank you very much.

Riku rolled his eyes and offered his hand to Naminé. "We should get out of here before the others come looking for you." The blonde girl lowered her eyes. She didn't very much like the thought of leaving Roxas alone to deal with the tween musical by himself. Ah, but if what she suspected was going happen would happen, then he would be in much better hands.

Of course, everyone else would be traumatized.

Deciding to add this to her ever-growing "How I Make People's Lives Very Difficult" list, Naminé quickly scribbled a note into her sketchbook before ripping the page out, and placing it on the table. Clutching her sketchbook to her chest with one hand, she grabbed Riku's hand with the other and nodded. "I just hope he'll understand."

"I guess we'll see how it turns out."

With that, he summoned a dark portal and the two teenagers escaped through it. A moment later, Riku came back into the room and stared up at the ceiling. "You might want to fix this plot hole before you continue on."

What? Oh, right. The narrator apologizes, and would like to say that this story is obviously not canon (in fact, it's not much of anything except deluded). Therefore, Riku can summon dark portals all day long if he wishes, and no one can say otherwise. Happy?

"Dancing with joy," the teal-eyed youth deadpanned, before stepping back into the portal and disappearing.

Well, now that we have some hinted exposition out of the way, the narrator feels it's time for an action scene. Let's start with a chase, hmm?

oOo

"Did we lose him?"

"I can't believe I threw my Milky Way bar at him…sixty whole cents…"

"I don't hear anything."

Our renegade trio from the past two chapters has somehow managed to outrun the security guard from earlier and is currently hiding in a broom closet close to the exit. Unfortunately for them, they picked possibly the worst broom closet to hide in. The exit, which was only a tantalizing fifteen feet away, was also the entrance to the building. Meaning that there were people milling around the lobby. Meaning that while they had been lucky enough not to be seen running into the closet, they would most likely be seen running out.

The eldest of the three glanced at the brown-haired boy. "What's does she say?"

"They're outside and wondering where the hell we are."

"Great," the girl muttered, peeking out through the cracked opening. "I guess you can't tell them that we're fifteen feet away from freedom and trapped in a broom closet?"

"And in about two minutes, every security guard and Higher-Up is going to be looking for us," the brunette murmured, blowing messy hair out of his eyes. "Maybe we should just make a break for it? And then sue if they tackle us to the ground?"

"Sue the Higher-Ups? What in the world makes you think we would win that case?" the girl retorted good-naturedly. She then bit her bottom lip as she began thinking fast. "Though making a break for it sounds like the only way we're all getting out of here in one piece."

The two young men shared looks before they both nodded grudgingly. The younger of the two quickly sent a message to their friends waiting outside – B RDY. Instant messaging has maimed the English language.

"Ready…go!"

The nice, cheerful lady sitting behind the receptionist's desk in the lobby had been having a super day. It was a nice Friday morning still, the sun was shining brightly, and the calls had all been from very chipper, polite people so far. Her skim decaf split-shot latte tasted absolutely perfect, and not a single hair on her little blonde head was out of place.

So, it was with a heavy heart that she noticed three young people run from the broom closet behind the elevators and make a break for the door.

The other people in the lobby noticed the three as well, as some made startled explanations at the silliness of people running from broom closets. But for those who actually recognized the three – lackeys of the Higher-Ups and regular walk-ins – exclaimed in surprise, and more than a few tried to block their path to the door.

Thank goodness that the girl was fast on her feet, that the eldest boy was slender enough to avoid grasping hands, and that people did double-takes looking at the brunette, giving him those precious extra seconds to slip out the front door.

Waiting in the parking lot sat a not-quite-inconspicuous silver car. The narrator would tell you more, but unfortunately, the narrator knows next to nothing about cars, and can only say it was probably expensive, foreign without being the size of shoebox, and most likely a new model that drove like the dickens.

Either way, the trio recognized the car and sprinted towards it.

"Sorry we didn't bring the getaway van," the girl in the front passenger seat apologized with a smile as the doors on both sides of the car opened. "But you guys are all small enough to fit into the back." She turned around to give them all a bright smile, white-gold waves twirling in the wind as the boy in the driver's seat shifted into high gear the moment the doors slammed. Ice-blue eyes shimmered in glee.

The driver, a handsome young man with dyed-blonde hair and bright blue eyes, glanced back from the rearview mirror and met the eyes of the brunette who was leaning back in his seat (which was, unfortunately, the middle seat), letting out a sigh of relief. "A broom closet, huh?"

"It was her idea," he said, pointing to the younger girl in the car, who was watching out the window as the parked cars sped by. She rolled her eyes and gave him a punch in the arm. "What?"

"How did you guys manage to get past security without letting on that you weren't sick?" the oldest asked. The girl in the front let out a measly cough and then batted big blue eyes at him.

"I told him I may have left my cell phone upstairs yesterday and could I please go get it?" she said in a sweetly convincing voice. The driver snorted and held up a pair of emo-boy black glasses.

"I just put these on and said I was her neighbor's brother's cousin's roommate giving the ride since her car broke down," he explained as the youngest girl grabbed the glasses from her spot in the backseat and tried them on. "I guess he believed it, because he let us through."

The brunette snorted. "He didn't recognize _you_?"

"Hey, the glasses thing worked for Clark Kent…"

And without anyone to argue with his reasoning, he sped out onto the populated streets of Los Angeles.

oOo

Luxord was having a strangely good day.

And pretty much every other Organization member hated him for it.

He wasn't quite sure how he lucked out in the casting department, but either way, his card had not been chosen, and he had apparently won the house. The narrator would continue with card analogies, but the narrator's extent of gambling and card games goes only as far as Blackjack, Bluff (usually called by another name – you know what it is), and Uno.

"The narrator should know that Uno doesn't even count as a real card game," noted Luxord with a sniff of disapproval.

The narrator thinks Luxord should know that he shouldn't push his luck about not being cast in the musical.

"Duly noted," the gambler said with a frown. He continued down the über-white halls towards the Oblivion Gym. He wasn't quite sure why he was headed there, other than some faint sense that someone may have been in there attempting to play basketball (except for Xaldin, who swore off basketballs after the incident earlier which resulted in the deaths of sixty-two innocent bouncing orange balls). If he did find someone, maybe he could talk them into playing poker (or any number of card games the narrator knows nothing about).

He stopped at the entrance of the new non-existent room, frowning when he heard the sounds of an argument coming from within. Well, arguing in the Organization wasn't new, but over basketball?

"I am _so_ not traveling!"

"You have to dribble the ball. If not, it's traveling."

"You're just mad because I keep running circles around you. You need to not get upset so easily."

"I'm not upset – I'm a Nobody, remember? I'm just trying to tell you that you're breaking the rules."

"Uh-uh. You're jealous."

"Demyx, I'm currently winning. Why would I be jealous?"

The tenth member of the Organization's curiosity got the better of him, and he entered into the high-tech gymnasium. A few moments later, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Zexion was currently holding the basketball under his arms, looking slightly less than pleased. Demyx was facing off against him, gesturing wildly to the basketball that the shorter Organization member held. But what was strange was that around five of Demyx's watery clones stood behind the two, currently engaged in their own game of basketball while the two argued.

The two were far too engrossed in their arguments over the rules of the game to notice Luxord approach. He took one look at the clones (who were getting water all over the court), another look at his two comrades, and sighed. "May I interrupt?"

Zexion looked over at him, and then nodded. Demyx spun around, only to note what his clones were doing. Eyebrows furrowing, he let out a sharp whistle. The five clones all stopped in the middle of their game looking very much like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, looked towards their master and promptly disappeared, their watery basketball disappearing with them. Luxord would have laughed at the absurdity of it, but found much more amusement over the fact that Demyx and Zexion were playing basketball at all to care.

"What are you two doing in here?"

"Playing basketball," Demyx replied with a grin. "Well, arguing about playing basketball because Zexion doesn't like to break the rules just for fun."

Zexion said nothing.

Luxord gave the shorter Organization member an amused look. "Getting into your role, eh? Shouldn't you really be learning to make crème brule?"

The sixth member of the Organization sniffed. "If I didn't know how to make it already. That's probably why I got that part in the first place. After all, none of _you_ know how to cook." The two blondes shared looks, and had to admit it was the truth. The last thing Demyx had tried to make hadn't even resembled something edible (no matter what country you visited), and Luxord had taken one look at the instructions on the back of the Hamburger Helper box, wondered what in the world the smiling glove was supposed to do, and gave up before he even got started.

"Demyx – a question."

"Yup?"

"Why were your clones playing basketball?"

"I don't know. You'd really have to ask them."

"…"

Of course, that conversation would have to take place at another time, because at that moment, the doors to the gym slammed open and one very pissed-off Organization member stormed in, followed by two other Organization members in varying states of pissed-off-ness.

"I do not believe that girl!" a decidedly unhappy Marluxia muttered furiously as he approached the three standing near the free-throw line. "Leaving a note, of all things!" Said note was crumpled furiously in one of his hands. The three who had been in basketball court at the start shared looks, and wondered what in the world was going on. Demyx hesitantly decided to ask the question. The assassin turned a furious glare towards him, and Demyx at once regretted opening his mouth.

"The witch has gone missing," Saïx said, rather calmly despite the fact that the others knew he wanted to go into berserker mode right then. But whether that was because of Naminé's sudden disappearance or because he was still fuming over the role he had been given in the musical, no one really could tell. Luxord was wondering if he could pull Demyx into a bet that it was probably the latter.

Zexion frowned. "Missing? She's not in her room?"

"Ha!" Xigbar, who had been examining the amount of water on the floor with removed interest, snorted. "Not in her room, not in the castle, not even on this world. She's gone and vanished, leaving us a nice little note, telling Roxas to be a good little boy and play along. As if." He rolled his one visible eye. "I don't think he's gonna be a good little keyblade dude when he finds out she's gone AWOL."

Since asking Marluxia about all the contents of the note was obviously out of the question, Luxord stroked his chin, and asked no one in particular, "Well, that leaves the Higher-Ups short their leading lady. It seems as if they may have to take back their proposition."

Silence fell over the group.

Somewhere, a cricket chirped, and was quickly shushed by its fellow crickets, telling it that it was not yet time for its debut solo. The cricket apologized and went back into its dressing room to be a prima donna.

After a few more moments of contemplative silence, Marluxia quietly said, "You know, that may not be an entirely bad thing."

The narrator would like to say, for future humorous sections of this story, no – it would not be a bad thing at all.

oOo

News spread fast in the Castle That Never Was. Since it was only really occupied by fourteen minus one sentient beings, it didn't take long for the other members of the Organization to find out that Naminé had pulled a Houdini and had escaped (along with her sketchbook) to some unknown location. Needless to say, most of them were relieved by the fact that without a leading lady, there was no _High School Musical_.

Ah, but things aren't so quickly resolved around here.

Xemnas, who had found out about Naminé's disappearance soon after Saïx had been calm enough to tell him, wasn't that worried. Other than the fact that he was a Nobody and therefore can't feel worry (the narrator won't divulge into the nuances of the existence, that is, non-existence of Nobodies and their erratic behavior), he knew that the Higher-Ups would most likely have a back-up plan.

Either way, it didn't concern him. As long as the lower-ranking members of the Organization got taught a lesson and worked harder to achieve Kingdom Hearts, it didn't matter who played what part and whether they liked it or not. Vexen and Luxord had been the two exceptions, mainly due to the fact that the Higher-Ups had simply run out of parts to cast. It was also probably due to the fact that, as the only remaining scientist of the bunch, Vexen would probably murder all the Higher-Ups with some strange concoction he mixed up in his lab if they had given him a part.

Or just make duplicates of the infamous Cabbage Patch kid and send it to all of the Higher-Ups' offices.

So Xemnas wasn't at all surprised when Ralph the Executive Nobody showed up at his desk two hours and seventeen minutes after Naminé's disappearance and gave him the new cast list. Ralph had quickly said something about a problem concerning three other people Xemnas had never heard of, and he had brushed it off, instead examining the new cast list.

His eyebrows rose.

And then he chuckled.

"Make sure those three get an update of their scripts," he said slowly, golden eyes dark with amusement. "They should learn their parts right away."

"The Higher-Ups said that they probably wouldn't be happy…but it was the best they could do, given the circumstances…" Ralph trailed off as his eyes glanced over the cast list. He sighed, and mentally prepared himself for the beating he was about to get from the various members of the Organization.

If he thought the first announcement of their involvement was bad, he knew this was going to be near-apocalyptic.

oOo

This had to be a joke.

This just had to be a very bad, very ill-planned cosplay skit of a joke.

Axel was probably going to kill Naminé next time he saw her. But not if Roxas got to her first.

He had read the note. He had understood what Naminé was fearful of – after all, who would want to face the wrath of thousands of fangirls if she had gone through with it? He had even understood why Sora, Kairi, and Riku got her out of the Castle That Never Was as soon as possible – playing heroes was something they did all the time.

What he didn't understand was why they just didn't cancel the whole promotional idea in the first place and leave them be. He didn't understand why the Higher-Ups would put them through this kind of humiliation, this kind of torture. He stared sulkily at his new script and wondered how much trouble he would get in if he got rid of the Higher-Ups himself.

Because there was no way he was going to sing "The Start of Something New" with Axel.

No friggin' way.

He was NOT going to be Gabriella.

oOo

**Author's Note** ( 20 Jan 2007): Y'all knew that was coming, right? Right?

Okay, I know there are some "bleh" readers out there who are sick of reading AkuRoku, and I promise this story won't turn into fluff. Or über-angst. It's just silly (come on, the idea of Demyx's clones playing basketball didn't make you roll your eyes?). And Axel will still have to sing "Get'cha Head in the Game" – and he'll get to bust out with a solo. (innocent whistle)

Well, let's see. You guys still don't know Xaldin or Saïx or Lexaeus or Marluxia's parts yet – but all of that will be revealed in the fourth chapter when we (finally) get to the singing and dancing. Sorry it took so long to set up. I was going to wait until Monday to post this, but I got a push.

As for the connection with Naminé and _High School Musical_, I just have one word: _Hairspray_.

Those are all my hints for now! See you in the next chapter.

- Nashie


	4. Rehearse

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: (looks up from newspaper) Still asking about that? No – I still don't own 'em.

oOo

Revised: 2 April 2007

oOo

When an avid reader is looking for a new book to read, he or she may read the back cover or inside flap to see what the book is about. Some may buy the book when a friend or family member has recommended it. Others may be forced to read the book because it is a vital part of their class which may or may not be the most boring subject on earth. Then there are those few who buy the book simply based on its cover (hence breaking that age-old proverb about judging books by covers and so-on and so-forth).

But usually, the reader's attention is grasped within just the first few pages, if not the first paragraph, if not the first sentence on-

"Don't touch me, you moron!!!"

"Well, how else are you supposed to twirl!?"

"TWIRL THIS!!!"

CRASH!!!

Crashcrashcrashcrashcrash.

Boom.

Excuse me, can the narrator even finish making her opening remarks without being interrupted!?

For heaven's sake.

We pick up in this story some time after the events of last chapter. After Naminé's little stunt, the Organization was somehow even less pleased with being part of this silly promotional event. Axel and Roxas couldn't even make it halfway through their rehearsals without either a) laughing hysterically, b) blushing (especially when Xigbar came in and "cheered" them on), or c) swearing vengeance on i) Naminé, ii) the Higher-Ups, or iii) the world in general.

Luxord, whose lucky day had ended when the new cast list had him replacing Axel as Chad, had been trying to figure out the odds of the musical actually succeeding (and in turn, collecting bets on if and when it failed). Luxord had also been avoiding Number XI at all costs, since, as it turned out, he would now be playing Chad to Marluxia's Taylor. The moment the new cast list appeared, a very interesting, decidedly murderous look had appeared in the assassin's eyes, and Luxord had decided it would probably be in his best interest to only interact with the pink-haired Organization member in front of the camera.

In regards to gym (which Xaldin had now been barred from for non-life), Zexion had given up playing basketball, and had turned to the other sports equipment stored under the bleachers. So far, he had found a volleyball set, some soccer balls, three hula hoops, and a bean bag sack with a smiley face on it. Disturbed by the smiley face, Zexion had stopped going to the gym altogether.

When the first cast list had come out, Lexaeus wasn't quite sure what to make of the character he was supposed to portray. Having stolen the DVD from Demyx, he had vanished into his room for thirty-seven minutes before coming back out and heading straight to the Melodious Nocturne's room. Xigbar passed Demyx eighteen minutes later - the musician was standing in the Proof of Existence, looking confused. When Xigbar asked what was up, all Demyx could say was, "Something about having to learn the piano. And wearing glasses. And Stephen Sondheim."

The second cast list also set in stone the decision after the first cast list came out: avoid Xaldin and Saïx if one valued their non-life.

And as for Larxene and Demyx…

Well, let's just say Larxene did not like to twirl.

In the Rehearsal Room of Dorian (the narrator finally managed to snatch the thesaurus when Xemnas wasn't looking), Demyx currently lay sprawled on the floor, on the remnants of what used to be a CD player. Larxene stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, and electricity dancing around her like some sort of halo. Roxas and Axel, who were also unfortunate enough to be in the room, were staring at Demyx with something akin to sympathy (if Nobodies could feel sympathy, but the narrator has once again digressed).

The Choreographer Nobody (don't ask) took one look at the blonde young woman and then another look at the unfortunate Demyx, and sighed. "From the top, then?"

Larxene scowled. "I am not singing this stupid song. I am not doing those stupid dance moves. And I am not wearing those clothes!" Then she waved the object she held in her hand threateningly. "And why does my microphone have all these ridiculous sparkles on it!?"

Demyx groaned from his spot on the floor. "I swear – why would couldn't Roxas be Larxene's sister? He's blonde too." He managed to sit up, wincing as he glanced at the destroyed CD player. Roxas glared at him from his sitting place from across the room.

"So you want to be Gabriella?"

Axel smirked.

The Choreographer Nobody frowned, and tapped its foot on the ground. "From the top, I said!"

"We don't have any music!"

"I said I'm not singing this stupid song!"

Axel began to outright laugh. A small grin even appeared on Roxas' face. The Choreographer Nobody glared at the two non-rehearsing Nobodies and briefly conjured ala Harry Potter another CD player and, of course, another CD. Demyx was about to make a comment about the boy wizard, remembered what had happened last time he mentioned it around Xemnas, and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"We will try this – again – from the beginning," the choreographer said, walking towards Larxene and Demyx. It pulled Demyx from his spot on the floor and dragged him over to stand next to Larxene. "And remember your jazz square, Number IX!" The nobody then grabbed Larxene's arm and pushed her closer to the other blonde Organization member. "And smile! This is a DCOM, after all."

Axel and Roxas shared grins.

"And…go!"

Disturbingly peppy music began to blare from the surprisingly small CD player. Neither Larxene nor Demyx looked even the least bit excited about the music. In fact, Larxene had crossed her arms and was staring off into another direction, while Demyx was slowly backing away from her, as subtly as possible so that choreographer wouldn't notice. But the nobody _did _notice and with a curt nod gestured for Demyx to move right back where he was.

"If you two don't start singing and dancing and pretending to be happy, I'll report to the Superior." The choreographer started the music. "Now…go!"

Unfair.

"_It's hard to believe that I couldn't see_…" Demyx began, not really singing the lyrics, but more like saying them on key.

Larxene rolled her eyes to the ceiling, and, along with a still wary Demyx, gritted out, "_That you were always right beside me / Thought I was alone with no one to hold / But you were always right beside me_." The blonde young woman suddenly stopped, and turned a very murderous look towards where Axel was sitting. The redhead had doubled over, trying to contain his laughter, but his shaking shoulders betrayed him. And Larxene was not a happy camper at all.

CrrrrrackSNAP!!!!

Roxas took a glance at his electrocuted best friend, who now looked a little _less_ happy, and sighed. "I told you not to laugh, Axel." The choreographer nobody threw its hands in the air and stomped over to the CD player, and pressed the rewind button.

"We are not leaving this room until you two can sing AND dance this song flawlessly."

The Nobody of the keyblade master chuckled. "We might be here awhile…"

oOo

The narrator interrupts this regular scheduled story for a little bit of a pop culture lesson.

For those who are unaware of it (yes, those two of you STILL living under that rock), _High School Musical_ is a popular Disney Channel Original Movie. This can be shortened to DCOM – just like every other title in the English language has been shortened (RADAR, EPCOT, BYOB, and WTFROTFLMAO, to name a few). It originally aired in January of 2006, and has since spawned books, two sequels in the works, a Broadway production, an ice show, book bags, clothing lines, CDs, DVDs…yeah, a lot of stuff.

It is a story about overcoming all odds, and believing in yourself, and being who you really want to be. Yup, all that clichéd stuff they tell you in elementary, middle, and high school, only to realize that real life doesn't really care about your dreams. In fact, real life never even received the Post-It note about your dreams because it was too busy trying to sell various people's souls on eBay.

The original soundtrack was the number one selling CD of 2006. Its stars are now the new faces of teen pop stardom. The concert pretty much sold out in every city it went to. The songs shot to the top of Billboard and iTunes' lists.

To say _High School Musical_ is a phenomenon would be like saying…well, it would be like saying _Kingdom Hearts 2_ had some serious innuendo in it.

But the narrator digresses.

"What the heck?" Sora exclaimed. "Exactly where in the game is there innuendo…!?"

WHAT IN THE NAME OF HEAVEN AND EARTH ARE YOU DOING!?

"Eh…I was reading the pop culture lesson…"

The narrator would like to know WHY a certain spiky-haired, soon-to-be-dead keyblade master is randomly popping up in a part of the story he is NOT supposed to be in.

Sora scratched the back of his head, and offered an apologetic grin. "Sorry…"

Please go back on the other side of the "oOo"s.

"Bad day at work again?"

Go.

Sora went.

Anyway, as the narrator was saying, _High School Musical_ is a phenomenon.

And the Organization is about to find out how much so…

oOo

On the other side of the "oOo", Sora rejoined his friends. The group was sitting just outside a nice little ice cream shop on a nice little corner in a nice little part of town on Destiny Islands. It was actually a nice day too – but what can you expect when you live in tropical weather all the time? Besides, it would be pretty depressing to save a whole bunch of worlds and then come back home and have rainy days and snowstorms almost every day.

Riku looked up as Sora came back and settled into his chair. "Bothering the narrator?" Sora grinned and took a huge bite of his triple banana and cherry fudge sundae (guaranteed to give you cavities in two bites or less). Swallowing, he shook his head. Riku rolled his eyes, obviously not believing his best friend. The narrator would like to emphasize the word "friend". Just like Axel and Roxas. Friends. Not lovers. Okay? There will be no kissing. No hugging. No groping. No suddenly explicitly written scenes involving leather or ice cr-

"_Excuse_ me," interrupted Riku. "Do you mind? Geez…"

Pardon the narrator's fangirlish rant.

"Thank you," Kairi said with a smile. She didn't look up from where she was flipping through the pages of her Nobody's sketchbook, making quiet comments about this picture or that picture. Naminé would sometimes offer details into why certain portraits were in black and white, or why the angles were twisted on another, or why there were stick people on one page and a copy of the Sistine Chapel on another.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Naminé lifted her head shyly and said, "Do you think, perhaps, the others know by now?"

"Probably," Sora said with a grin. He winked at the tiny blonde. "Thank goodness they can't track you down. Because I definitely want to see the finished project when they're done." Riku snickered, and Kairi tried to hide a smile, but failed miserably. Sora gave a shrug of one shoulder. "Well, it's not like they don't deserve all that torture after all what they put me through in the game. Geez."

"Even Roxas?" Naminé still looked guilty at having left the thirteenth Organization member behind. Kairi gave her a cheerful smile.

"Don't worry, Naminé. I'm sure he'll be fine. After all, he has Axel." (As a friend, the narrator lightly reminds). Kairi began to eat the ice cream cone her strawberry ice cream was melting in. "After all those stunts he pulled in the game sequel, I don't think he'll let Roxas go insane from the amount of singing and dancing he'll have to do."

"Are we technically supposed to know about the game sequel?" Riku asked.

"Well, this story obviously isn't canon so I guess we can know however much we want to," shrugged Sora as he chucked the now empty plastic ice cream bowl into a nearby recycling receptacle (saving the world doesn't just mean hacking and slashing with a keyblade – recycling is very important too). "Like about those five mysterious people from last chapter."

Naminé thoughtfully tapped her fingers against the front page of her sketchbook. "Knowing about them probably is on the borderline of destroying our space-time continuum." She looked down at the sheets in front of her, and suddenly began to flip through them. After a few seconds, she finally found what she was looking for and turned the page so that the other three youngsters could catch a glimpse as well. All four were very silent for a long time.

Then, Sora grinned. "Well, the fangirls will either love you or hate you, Naminé." He peered closer at the picture. "Is that supposed to be…?"

The witch nodded. Sora let out a whoop, and gave his two friends an optimistic look. "He looks less like me than I thought. However, _she_ – " he gestured to the picture of a blonde girl with bright blue eyes, "looks exactly like Naminé."

"These are probably the most unlikely pairings ever," Riku said with a smirk as he glanced at the mysterious picture. "I mean…technically, they're our –"

"I know, I know." Naminé peered down at the drawing. "But as for pairings…you really think this is even possible?" Kairi giggled and wiped a stray of mahogany-colored hair behind her ear.

"Many fangirls – and quite a few fanboys – will say it is."

"The fangirls," Riku murmured, stressing the word, "believe anything is possible in our universe." When the three others gave him questioning looks, Riku raised an eyebrow. "Ever heard of a thing called crack pairings?"

An uneasy silence followed that statement, and four pairs of eyes slowly turned back to the picture.

"That…is _so_ wrong," Sora said weakly.

oOo

It was Tuesday.

Next to Wednesday and Thursday, it possibly has the strangest name of the week. Unless, of course, it was Tuesday in any Latin-derived languages, like Spanish. Then, it would all make perfect sense. Tuesday is martés (in Spanish). Martés is Mars. Mars is the planet that represents Tuesday in some old dusty mythological book. Same goes with all the rest of the days of the week.

There. You learned something you didn't know before. And if you did, well, the narrator supposes you're no ignoramus.

It was still Tuesday, by the way.

And even though it wasn't quite afternoon, Ralph the Executive Nobody was having a particularly bad day.

Having parted ways from the plot line in chapter two, Ralph suspected that he probably wouldn't have anything else to do with the story (unless for some strange reason, he would be thrown in at the end as a twist). However, the Higher-Ups thought differently. Deciding that Ralph was already on familiar (though not exactly friendly) terms with the Organization, the Higher-Ups thought that Ralph would be the absolutely perfect choice to be the new director of Organization XIII. When Ralph was informed of this, he asked what had happened to the other director. All he was told was something about auditions for _American Idol_.

So there was Ralph – sitting in the lobby of an expensive ski resort set, trying to ignore the extras that milled around him. He was now wearing a pair of khakis and a winter sweater that was the same shade of red as his tie for his business suit. And he looked very, very hassled.

"Hot cocoa, sir?" one of the extras asked him in a chipper voice.

"With poison, please," the Executive Nobody said in a not-quite-as-chipper voice. The extra took the hint, and backed off, in attempts to bother other people with the inane question (after all, if they wanted hot cocoa, wouldn't they have asked for it?).

Ralph looked down at the cast list he held in his hand. He had managed to snatch up eleven out of the thirteen Organization members (and had somehow made it out of the Castle That Never Was alive). Out of that eleven, eight of them had to sing. Out of that eight, four of them had to sing as a duet or by themselves. Ralph was wondering how easy it would be if he just went up to Sora and asked him to kill him quickly.

And they still hadn't seen their costumes.

Now _that_ was going to be an issue. Ralph felt his non-heart sink to his feet when he looked at the costume designs for the Organization. He knew the moment that Lexaeus, Saïx, Larxene, and Marluxia got a look at their costumes, there possibly would be a mutiny of atomic proportions. Ralph already knew that Saïx was edgy about his character (VERY edgy, if the amount of bodily harm that that ensued afterwards had been any indication), and from the reports he had gotten from the Choreographer Nobody, Larxene, while surprisingly portraying Sharpay very accurately, was resisting every step of the way. And while the Higher-Ups had insisted that there be no crossdressing, Ralph still felt as though he would have to be put on the Witness Protection program if Lexaeus and Marluxia caught a glimpse of what they were supposed to wear.

"Here's a hot cocoa with aspirin, sir!" the extra had returned with surprisingly good-looking hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and a peppermint stick. In her hand, she held a small packet of Tylenol. "It'll help with that nasty mood, I'm sure of it!"

Ralph leveled a look at her. "You were hired by the Higher-Ups, weren't you?"

"Sure was!" She grinned at him. "And so were you! I can't believe you're directing this! This is going to be fun, isn't it?"

Ralph rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Why him?

oOo

The Choreographer Nobody, having hours ago given up on Larxene and Demyx, stared at the new problem in front of it. It was not a particularly patient Nobody, but this problem presented…exquisite handling. It crossed its arm, stroking its chin thoughtfully. Of course, there was always the most obvious way to solve the issue, but that would possibly only make things more complicated. As it stood, it was going to be hard enough to get out of this mess without ruffling too many feathers.

At least, that's what it had thought before Number VIII refused to even _start_ singing.

The Choreographer Nobody frowned.

"You know…you're actually going to have to sing _to_ him, right?"

Axel scowled. "Wrong."

Roxas looked up at the ceiling of the Rehearsal Room of Dorian and wondered exactly how many holes there were in the ceiling. By the time he had finished counting, maybe Axel would finally decide to sing the stupid song.

"It's a duet. You have to sing."

"It's a love song. And I'm not singing it to Roxas."

_One, two, three…_

"It's in your contract – either you sing and look as if you're enjoying it, or you're kicked out of the Organization with no chance of ever getting a heart for the rest of your miserable non-life!"

"No way! I'm not singing it to him." He glared. "Got it memorized?"

_Nine, ten, eleven…is that a fly?…twelve…_

"Well, technically, you're singing _with_ him, not to him. Can you attempt to that?"

_Fifteen, sixteen…_

"Those moves are stupid. And I'm not flirting with Roxas."

"Who said anything about flirting?"

"Excuse me, but have you even _seen_ the movie?"

_Twenty, twenty-one…that one's bigger than the rest…twenty-two…_

"Pretend to flirt. Pretend to have fun. It's called acting, you idiot!"

_Twenty-three…oh, hell…_

"Axel, can we just get it over with? We've been here for almost three hours." Roxas turned his gaze away from the ceiling (all the little dots were beginning to give him a headache) and gave his taller friend one of his trademark glares. "As long as we sing it right, it shouldn't be a problem." He glanced at the Choreographer Nobody. "After that, can we _please_ leave?"

The Choreographer Nobody glanced at Axel. The redhead had crossed his arms and was giving the dancing Nobody a pointedly evil glare. There was always the option of keeping them in there longer until the scene was dead-on perfect, but since rehearsal was moving at an accelerated rate and shooting started sooner than anyone would have liked…well, it looked as if the choreographer had no choice but to agree to Roxas's proposal.

"One time through. No mess-ups." It straightened its back, and walked over to its sixteenth CD player of the day (the other fifteen had all met electric or watery deaths at the hands of Larxene and Demyx – actually, the seventh CD player's death was a truly remarkable story of heroism that will eventually be showcased as a Lifetime movie with Tori Spelling and John Stamos. Check your local listings). "And – start."

And they would have started – if the door to the room hadn't suddenly flung open, and Xaldin hadn't stormed in. The Whirlwind Lancer did not look at all pleased when his eyes landed on Axel, and he walked over, grabbed the redhead's arm and proceeded to drag him out of the room. "We've been looking all over for you."

"Excuse me! Where are you taking him!?" the Choreographer Nobody exclaimed with a huff. Xaldin didn't even throw a glance over his shoulder as he pulled a protesting Axel behind him.

"Basketball practice."

"Basketball? He's in the middle of rehearsal for another-" The Choreographer Nobody shut up when it found a lance suddenly hovering millimeters from its throat. "Er…audible gulp." Xaldin finally turned to glance back at them, his blue eyes dark with irritation. Roxas gave the older member a questioning look.

"It seems as if the only member of the Organization who knows even remotely what he's doing on the court is Zexion," came the answer. Axel was about to protest again, but Xaldin summoned a dark portal and pushed him in before he could complete his sentence. "I'll return him when he's done." With that, the stoic lancer also disappeared through the portal, leaving just Roxas and the Choreographer Nobody in the room all by themselves.

_Yeah, he's going to make a great basketball coach_, Roxas thought dimly as he crossed his arms, turning his attention to the ceiling again. _Though I wonder how they got him to go back into the gym again after the basketball massacre earlier…_

"Ahem!"

The Choreographer Nobody's sharp cough snapped Number XIII out of his thoughts, and he turned to the lower-ranking Nobody with a raised eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Well, since your partner is gone, we can work on _your_ song!"

"My song?"

The Choreographer Nobody nodded, and briskly walked over to the CD player. "Yes. The character of Gabriella is the only character with a lone musical solo in the entire movie. So you need to practice. Now how in the world does _this_ version work?" The nobody was so busy fiddling with its CD player that it didn't notice the look of panic flash across Roxas' face at the mention of "lone musical solo".

He had definitely _not_ been aware of that.

The choreographer turned back to him expectantly, a glimmer in its eyes. "Here we go."

_Oh, crap._

oOo

Somewhere else in the Castle That Never Was, the Cabbage Patch kid from Marluxia's room was currently sitting in some glowing green liquid on one of the shelves in Number IV's laboratory. It was still smiling happily, despite now looking like some horrid baby doll from _Aliens_. On the glass cylinder was written a scrawled note – _Unknown Life Form. Requires extended study._

The writer of that message was sitting on the opposite side the room, mulling over his notes on the "unknown life form". As the only Organization member other than Xemnas who had been left out of casting (and thankfully fortunate for it too), Vexen had retired to his room to continue the research on the strange, humanoid object that Marluxia had found in his room a few days earlier.

But since reading about Vexen reading his notebooks isn't exactly the most thrilling way to spend your day, the blonde-haired scientist would get a visitor.

Knock, knock.

What excellent timing.

"How very convenient," muttered Vexen as he walked over the door, irritated at being interrupted in the midst of his research. He swung the door open – only to reveal no one standing there. The narrator is as disappointed as Vexen – that was certainly anticlimactic. Yea for settling non-existent castles and random non-existent poltergeists.

The scientist was about to close his door when he noticed something out of place on the threshold of the room. He bent down to stare at it – it was a box. Nothing very unique about. It was small, and wrapped in black tissue paper. On its top lay a simple white envelope. Well, this seems to spell a plot point, does it not?

"Not if I just leave it here," Vexen said, getting to his feet, and prepared to close the door.

The narrator reminds Vexen that this is obviously a present, and that he should take it before the person comes back and throws it at his thick skull.

"I'd rather not."

The door slammed.

A few moments later, on the opposite side of the door, a loud thump was heard. The door opened again, and a black projectile that looked surprisingly similar to the box that no longer was sitting on the door's threshold came hurtling out. Vexen glared at the offending box, rubbing the back of his head, and then he slammed the door again.

A few seconds later, another thump was heard.

This time, the door opened, and Vexen glared. "Did _you_ do that?"

The narrator had nothing to do with the thrown present. Now, if Vexen has just listened to the narrator earlier and opened the box…

"Ridiculous." The blonde-haired Chilly Academic looked down at the box that he had been prepared to throw out again, and, with a cross sigh, he unwrapped the paper, and began to open the box. As the flap opened, he peered inside. Frowning at the object that lay within the box, he glanced at the envelope that he still held in his hand. Brows furrowing, he tucked the box under his arm and then opened the letter.

A slow smile crept onto his face as he read the note's contents. Without giving any indication of what was in the letter or in the box, the scientist walked back into his room and shut the door.

Completely hidden in the shadows of the hallway, a lower-ranking Nobody slipped away. Its master had given it very simple instructions, and it had done so.

With its task complete, the Nobody disappeared.

Somewhere else, an employee at Best Buy noticed one of their video cameras was missing.

But the narrator is positive the two incidents have no connection.

After all, that would be one hell of a coincidence, wouldn't it?

oOo

**Author's Note** (26 Jan 2007): My goodness, how many subplots did I raise or re-mention in this chapter? Oh, well. I suppose you'll have to keep reading to figure out the answers to all of them. This story is turning out to be longer than I expected. The shooting _does_ begin in the next chapter though (poor Ralph).

I'll be taking a brief two-week-or-so break from this story to work on _Somebody, Somewhere, Someday_ – I got to Axel's chapter and then stopped (ah, procrastination – my most loyal and dear friend). Then I'll be back to this crazy little story until I remember that I have to write Demyx's chapter after Axel's. Ehehehe.

Thanks once again for the hits and the faves and the reviews!

- Nashie


	5. Snow

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: I don't own _High School Musical_. And as for _Kingdom Hearts_…(growls) Listen. Expert Mode Demyx has beaten me eleven friggin' times in a row. If I friggin' owned _Kingdom Hearts_, I would own Demyx, and I would tie him up in a basement with his clones and his stupid time limit and his stupid geyers and throw away the stupid key!!! No! I do not own Kingdom Hearts! Argh!

oOo

Revised: 3 April 2007

oOo

Far away from the angry disclaimer, Demyx sneezed.

If one hadn't read the disclaimer and didn't know all about that nifty superstitious saying about what happens when someone talks about you behind your back, then one might think that Demyx was catching a cold. And that's if you ignored the fact that he was currently standing outside the ski lodge set. In the disturbingly convincing cold. Building snowmen.

Not that he wasn't dressed for the weather. He wore a dark blue parka, snowboarding boots (the snowboard was still up in the mountain set…there's actually a story behind that that the narrator won't get into at the moment), a woolen scarf that covered his nose and lower face, earmuffs, and a pair of mittens which were covered in snow.

Suffice to say, Demyx was a _little_ chilly.

The snow-covered mittens are the direct result of building the snowmen. There were actually thirteen snowmen. Let's do the math, shall we? There are thirteen members of the Organization. There were thirteen snowmen. Axel's doppelganger was melting.

Speaking of the fangirl-loved redhead, he was looking at the very short snowmen versions of the Organization and quietly sipping his hot cocoa (which had been thrust into his hands by a way-too-cheerful extra in a reindeer sweater). The cocoa was actually really good. He was going to hunt down Roxas before the stupid film started shooting and get him to drink some. He wondered if he could actually steal the recipe from whoever made it.

"Should it really be this cold outside?" Demyx asked, his voice muffled by his thick scarf.

"You're the one who wanted to stand outside and build snowmen," noted Axel blandly. He sniffed the cocoa. He could have sworn there were marshmallows in there. Who actually put marshmallows in hot chocolate anymore? Very smart move – the cook gets five points from Axel. "Thirteen snowmen, actually. And mine's melting."

Demyx sniffed.

Now, the narrator can sort of guess what the reader is thinking. How in the world can a ski lodge set – a thing made from fake snow and Hollywood flats – be so cold? And what's that about the snowboarding incident in the mountain set? Well, since the narrator is quite cheerful today since she did not have to go to that hellhole known as work, she will explain.

The set is expensive. The Higher-Ups used magic. Therefore it is cold enough to build snowmen. End of story.

As for the snowboarding incident…

"Do we have to talk about that?" interrupted Demyx, who graciously accepted the hot cocoa that Axel was offering him. He took a sip of it, and his eyes widened. "Hey, this is really good. Does it have marshmallows in it?"

"I think so. Whipped cream, too."

Well, now that Demyx is distracted (thank you Axel), the narrator can continue. The snowboarding incident actually occurred earlier in the day. Axel, Roxas, and Demyx had all managed to escape from the evil clutches of directors and assistant directors and make-up artists and cameramen and grip boys and extras and fangirls and retreated up onto the very expensive, magically-created mountain set. Now, since the Organization is so cool, they _of course_ know how to snowboard, right?

Roxas was pretty good at it – all that skateboarding in _Kingdom Hearts 2_ finally managed to pay off for something other than pointless ways of making money (killing Heartless was _so_ much faster and easier) and completing those impossible trials in Jiminy's Journal (since everything in that journal was done except for beating Sephiroth – stupid impossible boss fight). Axel simply burned down anything he was about run into (cutting a path of destruction through the mountain set that would probably end up costing thousands of dollars to fix).

But Demyx – poor Demyx – had taken one look at the snowboard, decided that it would be cool if his water clones could snowboard too, and that's where the problem presents itself.

You see, it was cold outside. And anybody who managed to pass second-grade science knows that water freezes in cold weather. Well, Demyx never got this memo (or had just never gotten that magical little note in his pocket), and soon five of Demyx's water clones were snowboarding down the mountain, behind Roxas, who was pulling off moves that suspiciously looked ripped off from SSX, and Axel, who had incinerated three pine trees, two shrubs, and a coconut.

A few minutes later, two very frozen Demyx clones collided with Axel, knocking him off his snowboard and into a shrub that he hadn't managed to light on fire. Another clone cartwheeled into Roxas, sending both clone and keyblade master tumbling down the rest of the hill, and scaring away many rabbits (and one very confused Abominable Snowman). The last two clones Demyx managed to disperse before any more damage could be done, but not before Roxas and Axel jumped the Melodious Nocturne and pelted him with snowballs.

Then they pushed him off his snowboard and dragged him back to the lodge set.

"I think I taste some cinnamon in that," Demyx said with a frown.

"I would have guessed nutmeg."

Ahem. Boys?

Axel looked slightly startled at being pulled from his conversation about hot chocolate. "What?"

The plot. This is the chapter where the movie actually starts.

"Thanks for reminding me," muttered Axel. Demyx snickered and Axel was tempted to throw his cup at him. Then he realized that it would be a waste of a perfectly excellent cup of hot chocolate and instead tossed a small fireball onto the Demyx snowman. "See you around, Demyx." The redhead then walked inside the lodge to change into his costume for the first scene. Demyx stared sadly at his melted snowman clone, and then took a sip of his hot chocolate. He made a face.

"No. This is definitely cinnamon." Then an idea struck him. Or occurred to him. Or sprung up on him. Whatever verb you feel is most appropriate. "I know! I'll go ask Zexion!"

And with that, he ran off, leaving the Abominable Snowman to complete the finishing touches on the remaining twelve Organization snowmen all by himself.

Axel, meanwhile, having nearly made the mistake of entering the lobby full of fangirls, had turned down a near empty corridor towards the gym at the other end of the ski lodge. Since he hadn't heard screams of terror coming from the far wing, he assumed that Xaldin hadn't destroyed the gym in a fit of rage. Well, small favors. That meant that the scene still needed to be shot.

Preferably with a sawed-off shotgun.

At that moment, Ralph rounded the corner and spotted the Organization's Number VIII approaching the set. Now, Ralph, being the sensible Executive Nobody that he was and knowing that of all the Organization members, Axel was the one who wanted to kill him the most, decided that saying hello to the fire-wielding Nobody was probably a bad idea. So he snuck back around the corner, and ran like the hounds of Hades were on his heels towards the very, very, very opposite end of the lodge set.

Axel hadn't noticed the director, and for the continuation of this story, this was a very good thing. Because a movie can't be made without a director.

But the narrator won't tempt fate by saying so.

Ooops…she already did. Darn.

Well, before any chandeliers can come crashing down on poor Ralph's head, let's hurry and get this show on the road.

oOo

This is not a Disney Channel Original Movie.

Sorry.

And believe it or not, it was not filmed on location.

The ski lodge is still a very expensive, very magical, very realistic looking set. But it's not real. The snowmen were real (the Abominable Snowman even gave the Xaldin snowman six detailed lances and won an award for his artistry). The fact that it was nighttime was real – after all, having pulled so many strings, there had to be something real besides the unwilling actors and singing (yes, that _is_ real – there is something in the contracts about having to sing their own songs…take that, Zac Efron!).

Speaking of singing…

Roxas sat on the couch of some random set, trying very hard to ignore the eager fangirl extras behind him. He knew he was supposed to be reading a magazine, but having looked at the cover, he had tossed the offending issue into the nearest trash can, and settled into a chair, crossing his arms, and glaring at the ceiling for the remainder of the scene.

After all, who cares about who wore what to the Golden Globes?

At that moment, a woman who looked as if she may or may not be related to Roxas walked into the room, spotted the pouting blonde and went to snatch the magazine he was reading out of his hands. Except that he wasn't reading one. He was glaring at the ceiling, much to the chagrin of the director. But Ralph knew better than to make anybody in the Organization do something they didn't want to do – especially considering that they didn't want to do this musical.

The woman opened her mouth to speak. Roxas glared daggers at her. "Don't even think about calling me Gabriella."

The woman blinked and turned to look at Ralph. The director winced, and gestured frantically. The woman sighed and nodded, then continued, "Roxas, enough…er…glaring." Stubborn silence. "Remember the teen party. I've laid out your best clothes. Time to go get ready."

"No." Whether this was an answer to the idea that someone laid Roxas' clothes out for him or that he was being forced to go to that horrible thing known as a teen party, no one in the crew could figure out. But if this was any indication how the rest of the movie was going to go…

"Hey, Roxas?" Ralph called from behind the camera. Roxas glared. Ralph sweatdropped. "Roxas…just go with her. You don't even have to want to. Just go."

Roxas sighed, turning to look at the woman, and then climbed to his feet. "Fine." And without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving the actress standing by the couch, looking completely muddled. Ralph rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Oi…"

The blonde Organization member had halted in his retreat from the set, and turned back. He knew he had passed it – aha. There it was. The kitchen. Axel had managed to track him down before they started shooting and demanded that he have a drink of his hot chocolate. Roxas had wondered if it was poisoned, but took a sip anyway. Which led to an impromptu conversation about what ingredients could possibly be in the cocoa. Roxas had agreed with what Demyx had said earlier – it was probably cinnamon. Axel still strongly protested that it was nutmeg.

So, in passing the kitchen, Roxas decided that he was going to find out the ingredients to put an end to the argument after all. It was a worthy quest.

He swung the doors open…and saw the Abominable Snowman standing over the stove, making chili.

Roxas stared.

The Abominable Snowman stared.

Finally, the keyblade master let out a groan. "This is going to be a running joke, isn't it?"

The Abominable Snowman shrugged, and offered Roxas a bowl of the chili. The blonde glanced at the bowl, decided that the worst that could happen would result in the end of the movie, and took a taste of the chili. His eyes widened. "Hey…that's really good. No, really. What'd you put in it?" Silence. "Oh, right. Good cooks never tell their secrets. Well, do you think you could give the basic recipe to Zexion at least?" Silence. "Oh, fine. Be that way."

We'll leave Roxas talking to the Abominable Snowman about the ingredients of the chili. After all, he's so engrossed with the conversation, he doesn't see the make-up artists sneaking up on him.

Roxas spun around. "Oh, crap…"

Well, as the make-up artists force Roxas to get ready for his next scene, let's see how Axel is doing with his little personal time in front of the camera.

oOo

The gym was currently occupied.

Not that Xaldin and Axel were doing anything worth having the gym considered to be occupied. Xaldin sat off in a corner, still in his black cloak, his six lances floating around him as he homicidally glanced at the row of basketballs sitting innocently on the other side of the room. Axel was shooting freethrows at the net, which was surrounded by a ring of fire. Every time a basketball went through, it ignited into a miniature fire ball and collided onto the floor with a thud.

This was how the actress found the two a few minutes later as she fluttered into the room in a decidedly fancy-looking dress. She took one look at Xaldin, another look at Axel, then another look at the flaming basketballs and sighed. "Does this even count as playing basketball?"

"Yes." Thud. "I'm shooting baskets. Therefore, it's basketball." Thud.

For her own credit, the actress was not as easily fazed as the other woman who had the luck of playing Roxas' mom. A frown appeared on her face, and she planted her fists on her hips. "Did we come all this way so you could…shoot freethrows?" Axel and Xaldin gave the actress long, blank looks, and she knitted her brows together. "You two are hopeless."

A lance went shooting centimeters away from her hip to pierce one of the basketballs behind her. The crew shared nervous looks. Even the most unflappable of actresses would be the tiniest bit fazed by that. But obviously not this one. She reached behind her, grabbed a basketball, and threw it at Xaldin's head. She had pretty good aim. The Organization's Number III looked a tiny bit miffed at being attacked with an orange rubber ball, and looked prepared to retaliate when Ralph walked in.

Now, even though Ralph is a lower-ranking Nobody, is hated by 99.9 of the Organization, and will probably only appear in one fanfiction for the rest of his non-existent life, he was still the Director. With a capital "D". He was Important. With a capital "I". And he was unhappy. With a lower-case "u".

"We're not even two minutes into this yet and no one's cooperating," the Executive Nobody mumbled as he went to stand behind the camera. "Can't we just cut to the big finale and be done with it?"

Well, the narrator would like to point out that that would be next to impossible, since we would have to skip over any semblance of a plot.

"You call this a plot?"

The narrator calls this a bar mitzvah.

Axel sighed and then began to walk towards the door. "Oh, forget it. This scene is pointless anyway. It's not like this Troy kid is going to get into college with only one move." Annoyed, he tossed a basketball up in the air, ignited it, and then sent it sailing into the basket. "But if he could do that…well, who could blame the college scouts for wanting to sign him up?" He walked out of the room to change into his costume for the next scene.

The actress and Ralph turned to look at where Xaldin was still sitting. He glared back at them.

"I don't play basketball," he said, and disappeared into a black portal.

Ralph looked around for something hard and preferably sharp to bang his head again.

oOo

Enter the teen party.

Yes, it was garishly decorated with New Year's balloons and crepé paper. Kids trying to be cool were drinking their fruit punch and attempting to flirt with the opposite sex only to realize that, at fourteen, they had no game, and would end up only embarrassing themselves further into that abysmal pit known as teen angst (in that pit also wallowed prom jitters, peer pressure, and the overreaction of a girl's first zit and a guy's first wet dream).

Roxas took one look at the teenage wasteland, and promptly turned on his heel to leave. Unfortunately, the Abominable Snowman, who had followed him to the set, blocked his exit. The blonde keyblade master was trapped. Shrugging in defeat, he walked over to the nearest couch and tilted his head to glare at the ceiling and wished for the obliteration of the Higher-Ups. Especially for making him where this stupid outfit (said outfit consisted of a baby blue sweatshirt with the number 13 on it and a pair of khakis – Roxas _hated_ khakis). And if the stupid blatantly obvious outfit wasn't enough, now he had to sing (_sing_!) karaoke in front of people.

Oh, god – karaoke was the root of all known evils (next to homework, little children, Brussels sprouts, and _American Idol_).

On the other side of the room, Axel didn't even need to make his appearance. He had already gotten into a fierce foosball competition with a fellow wearing a giant cowboy hat. His outfit was less cutesy than Roxas' and he had just shrugged when he saw it – black dress shirt and blue jeans.

Axel wondered whether or not just to light the hideous headgear on fire right then and save the teenage boy the embarrassment of actually greeting girls like that. Ah, that would be too generous. And it would take away some entertainment later that night after this farce was over.

Behind the camera, Demyx had managed to sidle his way onto the set with a reluctant Zexion (Zexion said it was nutmeg – it was now two for two), and stolen Ralph's director seat. Still drinking his (cinnamon-flavored) hot chocolate, he held a small digital camera in right hand. "This is going in the photo album. Roxas _hates_ his costume."

"We don't have a photo album."

"No better time like the present to buy one." Demyx grinned. "It's called blackmail, Zexy. You can use it for evil purposes."

Zexion stifled a groan and drank his hot cocoa.

In front of the camera, a wacky looking emcee who may or may not have been drunk jumped onto the stage, grinning at the two teenagers who had just finished up a horrible pop duet. (The narrator would like to jump in at this bit and insist that the song the two karaoke singers were singing _was_ a very bad pop duet – honestly. It was über-cliched. Not that the narrator is a critic or anything. And the hat that the boy was wearing was ugly.)

"Alright! Who's gonna rock the house next!?"

The spotlights began waving around frantically. Unfortunately, for said spotlights, only Roxas was actually sitting where he was supposed to. Axel was still humiliating people in the foosball corner of the room. The moment the spotlight fell on Roxas, he seemed to glare murder at some unknown ceiling deity. The emcee cleared his throat nervously. "And hey, why don't we bring up that redhead guy who isn't standing where he's supposed to!?"

"Oh, real subtle," Roxas noted.

Axel, who had been ready to take on someone who dared to challenge him at Flaming Foosball, scowled in annoyance, and strode towards the stage. "Rain check. I'm in the middle of a game."

"And we're in the middle of shooting," the emcee shot back, grabbing Axel's arm and dragging him onto the stage. Roxas was similarly pushed onto the stage (by eagerly groping fangirls), and microphones were thrusts into the two Organization members' hands. "One day, you guys are going to thank the Higher-Ups for doing this for your careers."

"Screw you."

"Ditto."

The emcee shrugged. "Whatever." And with that he leapt off the stage.

Now, this situation presents a tiny bit of a problem. See, if you recall in the last chapter, Axel and Roxas never actually rehearsed this song together. Ever. In fact, they never even rehearsed it alone. So technically, this is their first time singing it at all. In front of the extras. In front of the cameramen. And when Organization members are backed into a corner, into a situation they really, really don't like, bad things usually happen…

The music began.

Demyx poised his camera.

Ralph crossed his fingers and closed his eyes.

The Abominable Snowman stole the giant cowboy hat.

Axel took one look at the karaoke screen, and one thought ran clearly through his mind – someone was going to die the _millisecond_ he got off stage. He took a breath through gritted teeth.

"_Living in my own world / Didn't understand / That anything can happen / When you take a chance_." A very slow and painful death. This was stupid. He turned to leave the stage to continue his foosball game. He needed to hurt something. And the guy in the stupid sparkly top hat looked like a good –

"_I never believed in / What I couldn't see_…"

Oh. Right. Still in the middle of a song. He turned back, surprised that Roxas hadn't deserted the stage as well. The blonde Nobody, however, was still standing on the stage, singing barely above a whisper, and glowering darkly at anybody who even thought about telling him to sing louder. "_I never opened my heart / To all the possibilities_."

Axel sighed, returning to the stage. Well, he wasn't about to abandon his best friend on that stupid karaoke stage. Even if he did have to sing the cheesy duet with him. Besides, it would take two people to cause the mayhem he had in mind. "_I know that something has changed_…"

"_Never felt this way_…"

"_And right here tonight / This could be the start of something new…_" Axel glanced over at Roxas, who still was still hardly singing at all. The blonde caught his eye, and blinked at the mischievous grin the redhead sent his way. Slowly, a reluctant smile appeared on the youngest Organization member's face and he gradually began to sing louder. "_It feels so right to be here with you / And now looking in your eyes / I feel in my heart / The start of something new_."

_Well, at least he doesn't look half as murderous now…_Axel thought with a smirk as he took the microphone from its stand. "_Well, who'd have ever thought that / We'd both be here tonight_?"

"_And the world looks so much brighter / With you by my side_." Was Roxas trying not to laugh? He was definitely singing above a whisper now, launching into a strong tenor slash falsetto slash some vocal term that narrator isn't entirely sure of and will get back to that in some later chapter.

Neither of the two noticed the surprised crowd actually gathering around the stage, not because they had been told to, but because, surprise, surprise, Roxas and Axel were actually, dare the narrator say it, good. And even though they had only heard the song once or twice, they seemed to have the lyrics down just fine. As for their harmony and adlibbing and all that other wonderful technical singing stuff…well, they are in a musical. That just usually comes naturally.

Because in real life, people automatically know how to harmonize and fall into impossibly choreographed dance moves. Duh.

Demyx poked Zexion in the arm. "Um…this could be bad."

Zexion glanced at him. Then, with a sigh, "How could this be bad, Demyx? Neither of them look ready to kill anyone the moment they jump off the stage."

The sitar player rolled his eyes. "Think about it. If they're good, then they're going to make Larxene look bad. And she doesn't want to look bad. Even if she does hate doing this. She might actually get into it too if she realizes thatooomph!!!" Suddenly having his mouth covered was not was Demyx was expecting from the shorter Organization member.

"The plot, Demyx. At least some of it has to remain a mystery."

"Hmmph. Foooofmmph!"

"Apology accepted."

"Mrfmmph!"

"No. It's still nutmeg."

Demyx pouted.

oOo

It was snowing outside.

Roxas decided to ignore the fact that it was snowing. In fact, he was trying to ignore a lot of things at the moment. Like the fact that the entire set had erupted into cheers when he and Axel had finished the duet (especially the fangirls – he wondered if his hearing would ever recover). He was also trying to ignore the idea that he had actually had…well, maybe fun was too strong of a word. At least it hadn't been the complete death-defying ordeal he had imagined in to be.

And now they had to shoot this stupid scene.

"That was…different," Axel said, drinking his hot (cinnamon-flavored) chocolate. "Singing careers, here we come." Roxas snickered into his mug of cocoa.

"Yeah. Watch out MTV."

Ralph sighed somewhere behind the cameras. Was it too much to ask for them to actually stick to the script? He called out that request and was immediately shot down by fierce sapphire and emerald glowers. He threw his hands up in defeat. Well, as long as they actually got through the scene…he couldn't really ask for more.

Right?

"So…you've done something like that before?" Axel asked nonchalantly. Roxas shrugged.

"Nope. Tried it once, panicked, and didn't try it again until today." He looked into his mug. Definitely nutmeg. "What about you?"

"Recorded for a major studio, won a Grammy, the usual." The shorter blonde glared at him, and Axel chuckled. "Or not." Roxas punched him in the arm, and the redhead feigned hurt. Then, almost simultaneously, they both turned to look right at the camera, Axel raising an eyebrow slightly. "Are we done?"

"No," Ralph deadpanned. "Wait for the fireworks."

More glaring.

"Just do it. Please."

In the background, people began to countdown for no reason at all…oh, wait. It was New Year's. Yeah. Except it wasn't really. But the narrator supposes the timeline can only be realistic to a certain degree. Either way, fireworks lit up the night sky. Well, if they were filming on location. But the colors sure did make the Organization's thirteen snowmen (except for melted Demyx) look pretty darn cool.

Axel looked up at the fireworks. "You call those fireworks?"

"Axel." It was the only warning from the director. The slender Organization member sighed, but said nothing, turning back towards Roxas.

"Well, there are the fireworks. I'd better go see if Xaldin – I mean, daddy dearest – destroyed the gym yet." He began to fish through his pockets, and he pulled out a cell phone. "Um…I guess I'll call you? Somehow…on this thing…" He turned towards the cameraman. "How do you turn this on? It's got way too many buttons…"

Five minutes and a few bruised egos later, the scene wrapped. The cameramen and the extras all wiped sweat from their brows, feeling dread in their stomachs as they recalled that they were less than ten minutes into the movie. There was still another hour and a half to go. With even more of the temperamental Organization.

Axel and Roxas, on the other hand, looked quite cheerful now that their first scene was completed. The minute Ralph had called, "Cut!" they had ran back into the ski lodge set in search of a free foosball table.

oOo

Somewhere else, a young man sneezed.

"You've been doing that a lot lately." The girl sitting next to him in the passenger seat handed him a napkin. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

"Or you could just have the worst karma in the world," the brunette sitting in the back said with a wink. The driver fixed him with a glare that was slightly ruined by a red nose.

Gee, the narrator wonders why the poor guy could be sneezing so much…

oOo

And in yet another location, Vexen checked his last minute upgrades to his new video camera.

And he smiled.

oOo

**Author's Note** (11 Feb 2007): Well, I said the weekend, and I made it with two hours to spare. I actually had to go and pull my _High School Musical_ DVD out from my shelves and watch it to be reminded how the first few scenes went. It's been awhile since I've seen it, obviously.

Back to reality and the non-rambling world, I think I died when I saw the hits for this story. Of course, I immediately Phoenix-Downed myself and settled for staring slack-jawed at the computer screen. Thanks you all so much for hits and the reviews and the favorites. I'm unworthy! I'm so glad that you guys like this story. It might get a little…er…weird from here on out, but hey…I'm weird, so I guess it doesn't upset the cosmic balance…

Yet another clue about the mysterious five young people running away from the Higher-Ups…hmmm…and what could Vexen possibly use that camera for? Evil Vexen! No cookies for you.

And yes. It is true about the disclaimer. Eleven times in a row. _Eleven_. Now that's embarrassing.

Well, next chapter means that school's in session. We finally get around to seeing the other Organization members in action! Or something akin to it…

Until then!

- Nashie


	6. School

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own either of 'em, and I still haven't beaten Demyx. (sighs) "Poor fighter", my butt.

oOo

Revised: 3 April 2007

oOo

Before the reader jumps into this chapter, the narrator believes that a few explanations are in order concerning high school.

High school is evil.

No, the narrator rephrases that. Teachers are evil. Homework and tests are evil. Pep rallies are extremely evil. Environmental science and biology with a teacher who has never given you an "A" are evil. High school itself, when ignoring those minor little details, can possibly be fun. Unfortunately, since those things are essential to the high school experience itself, high school is tainted with aspects that are decidedly un-fun.

The Organization must have known this – which is why they raised a mini-ruckus so many chapters ago.

So imagine their extreme delight (well, as delighted as Nobodies can get, all things considering) when they were told that, sooner than any of them would have liked, it was time for high school part of _High School_ _Musical_ to begin.

Add that to the fact that many of the Organization were now wearing their much-hated costumes, and the reader pretty much has eleven very pissed-off, very uncomfortable, very _powerful_ Nobodies on their hands.

If you look up "recipe for catastrophic disaster" in the dictionary, you probably won't find it, but if you did, then you'd probably find a nice little description of the first few scenes of the Organization's _High School Musical_.

Yeah. Things are gonna get interesting.

oOo

First day back from winter vacation is usually greeted with both apathy and excitement. On one hand, who actually wants to go back to school? On the other hand, two weeks away from the norm, no matter how hellish it can be, can put ants in anyone's pants (and not the nice, regular black ants that you may have fried with a magnifying glass when you were little, but the evil, red fire ants that will take said magnifying glass and beat you senseless with it).

The front yard of the high school was filled with…well, er…high schoolers. Well, technically, they were all extras. Not that it really matters, since most of them disappear into the background of school hallways and auditoriums and the gym for that big feel-good number at the every end. So, they're not really important, for the time being. The Organization, on the other hand…

Luxord, for instance, was supposed to be playing basketball. After all, his character was a basketball player (almost scarily obsessed with it, but whatever). But Luxord, deciding that doing that stupid basketball dance routine was going to be humiliation enough, was currently playing blackjack with five or so extras (and, of course, winning). Zexion was sitting behind him, lotus style, also supposed to be playing basketball. Said basketball was actually sitting on his lap, but he was engrossed in reading the über-thick _Les Miserablés_, and ignoring pretty much everyone around him.

Behind the cameras, Ralph sighed.

The yellow buses had pulled up behind the jock-and-cheerleader clique, and students (er…that is, extras) were piling out of the bus. Most of the students (extras!) went unnoticed, but when the jock extras and cheerleader extras caught a sight of bright red hair, a cheer went up amongst them. Except for Luxord, who was still in the midst of cleaning out everybody's lunch money.

Axel winced as he was immediately surrounded by students (ex…oh, forget it). It was already bad enough that he had to wear this stupid outfit – white long-sleeved shirt, black t-shirt, and faded blue jeans, for inquiring minds – but did the crew really have to top it off with a twenty-pound-plus backpack? Exactly what was in the stupid bag?

He was refrained from pulling the backpack from off his back by Luxord, who casually strode up to him, counting the dollar bills he had gathered from the now-disgruntled extras. Zexion followed him, placing his basketball under one arm and stuffing his novel into an unknowing Axel's backpack. Their cool nonchalance was completely un-reflected by the excitement of their clique surrounding them. "How's it going?"

"Ready to destroy this backpack," Axel replied with a smirk before turning to the rest of the group. "Hey, guys – happy New Year."

"Which technically it isn't," noted Zexion dryly, spinning the basketball on the tip of his index finger.

"Insert exposition here," Luxord said as they approached the school. Ralph coughed very loudly behind the cameras, and Luxord rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I mean, it's going to be a happy Wildcat New Year. Because in two weeks, we're going to the championships, with you leading us…" A pause and a reluctant sigh. "To infinity and beyond." Some of the students cheered behind them, and Axel struggled not to laugh at the Wildcat manta that began.

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Kill me now," Zexion muttered as they entered into the school.

Now, if you thought that the school was big on the outside (which it was), then the inside, is, unsurprisingly, just as gigantically big. And it had a lobby. Yes, there was a lobby inside the high school. And not just a normal landing-at-the-top-of-the-front-stairs sort of lobby. This lobby covered two floors of open space. In the middle, in front of the main staircase sat, what else, a bronze lifelike sculpture of a wildcat. Red and white banners proudly sporting "EHS" covered the white-painted walls, beneath an honest-to-god glass ceiling. On the far left of the atrium was the trophy wall and trophy case. The right portion of the lobby held display stands for various school activities.

Luxord whistled low under his breath.

"Tell me how we can have trophies if this isn't even a real high school?" Axel asked with a raised eyebrow.

Zexion or Luxord probably would have answered if a commotion hadn't stirred from the stairs ahead of them. The three Organization members looked towards the main staircase, and saw, to their surprise, Larxene and Demyx descending the stairs. Axel wasn't quite sure if the students' surprise and stares were due to the fact that Larxene was fixing them all with a glower to melt the polar ice caps, or that both of them were actually wearing what the costume department had picked out for them.

"Is she wearing pink?" Luxord managed to say as the "twins" walked towards them.

Yes, Luxord, she was.

Larxene (who must have been practically seething inside) was wearing a pink-and-gray denim knee-length skirt, white camisole, and ankle-high white boots. Her matching bag (or was it a purse?) swung loosely at her side, more like a weapon than a fashion accessory. She glared murderously at the group in front of her, clutching a (pink?) cellphone in her free hand.

Demyx (who had still forsworn all the hats that the costume crew had tried to give him) wore a pair of khaki-colored dress pants and a ribbed white turtleneck, and looked as if he were trying to decide exactly what he was supposed to do with the cellphone he had in his hands.

As the two breezed past, Axel couldn't help but let out the snicker he had been failing to hold in. Larxene didn't even stop moving – she just held out her hand as she passed the redhead, brushing his sleeve, and letting a nice, little, uncomfortable bolt of lightning shoot from her fingertips.

"Ouch! Larxene!"

A smile slipped onto the young woman's face as she and Demyx continued their walk outside.

Axel rubbed his arm while Luxord chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Probably not the wisest decision on your part, Axel." The eighth member of the Organization rolled his eyes as the group passed through the lobby, the jocks and cheerleaders still loudly cheering and talking behind them. The group passed another cluster of students near the right part of the front lobby. These students were surrounding one of the free-standing bulletin boards, watching as the jocks passed them by.

Marluxia, who was actually reading the information he was supposed to be putting up, looked up at the passing crowd, and shook his head. "Behold the zoo animals heralding the New Year." He sighed. "How tribal."

At that moment, the bell rang.

"Well, that's one way to change the scene…"

The bell had its intended affect as a majority of the extras and Organization members alike hurried off-camera to make away for the scene change. By the time, Roxas, Xigbar, and the actress lady from last chapter entered, only a few stragglers remained behind. But they're not important, so the narrator recommends ignoring them (including the extra doing a strip tease over near the bathrooms…don't ask).

Of all the Organization members, Xigbar was probably the only one who actually liked his part. After, it's not every day he got to be the principal of a high school, no matter how fake said high school was. He was probably also the only one who felt comfortable in the clothes he was given as a costume (though the costume department never did find the jacket to the suit he was supposed to be wearing).

Roxas, on the other hand, was a little more peeved with what he was wearing this time – the white polo shirt was fine, but when he found out who thought it was a great idea to keep putting him in khaki shorts, there was going to be hell to pay. He turned to the actress who may or may not have been related to him, and quite bluntly said, "I don't want to be here."

The actress beamed at him. "You're always nervous on your first day at a new school. You're going to do _great_. You always do." Roxas' expression told her that he was going to be anything other than great. The actress placed an arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry. I made my company promise I can't be transferred again until you graduate."

Xigbar grinned. "You're gonna be fine, little dude. School's not that bad."

"Says you. You're not a student here."

"You're totally right, but that's because I'm cool enough to be the principal," came the reply. Roxas sighed, and then turned back to the actress who may or may not have been related to him.

"I don't want to be the school's freaky new genius kid again." The actress smiled, and leaned over to kiss Roxas on the forehead. She didn't notice the blonde grimace, and frankly, didn't care.

"Just be Roxas."

Xigbar snickered at the look on the blonde's face, and gestured towards the stairs. "First class is up the stairs, little dude."

Roxas made a face and walked off, muttering under his breath the entire time.

No one noticed the Cabbage Patch kid that sat inconspicuously in the trophy case.

oOo

Homeroom was possibly the only class of the day (if one can consider it a class) that was pure, insane fun (or pure, insane hell, if you were scrambling to finish up that calculus homework that you just happened to forget the night before because your favorite television show was on). Most teachers just took attendance, and then let the class run rowdy for the ten minutes that it spanned. It was high school's morning recess.

The homeroom that all the Organization members were in was probably…less fun.

And that was simply because Saïx was the drama teacher.

Now, the costume department was made up of reasonably intelligent Nobodies somehow employed by the Higher-Ups. They also knew that most of the Organization did not like their costumes – in fact, they had a very strong dislike of said outfits. But no one could have hated the original concept of his costumes more than Saïx.

And since the Higher-Ups really didn't want the Organization's berserker destroying their very expensive high school set, they decided to work around that original concept. Number VII had ended up in a pair of black slacks and white dress shirt. Anything other than the basics or remotely related to the word "eccentric" had been tossed out the window.

Roxas stood in the doorway of the room, and stared. _I can't believe they actually managed to get everybody to wear…wait, is Larxene wearing pink?_

Yes, Roxas, she was.

The bell rang again, and the students scrambled to take their seats. Axel, who was trying to get Zexion to teach him how to spin the basketball on one finger, felt Roxas brush by him to get to his seat, and was about to tease him when Larxene blocked his view, an evil grin on her face. "So, Axel, you seemed a little _shocked_ to see me this morning."

"That's a bad pun, and you know it."

The young woman simply smiled and took her seat.

Before we continue the rest of the scene, the narrator would like to interrupt for just one moment. The narrator reminds the reader that there are eight members of the Organization currently in the room. Seven of them as high school students, one as a teacher, dressed for their parts. Even more specifically, three of them as jocks, two of them as Aéropostale-esque models, the other two as honor-roll students, and the last as a not-quite-eccentric drama teacher.

If you haven't seen _High School Musical_, one might fail to see the humor in this.

"I fail to see the humor in this, and I _have_ seen it," muttered Axel.

Saïx stood up from behind his desk, and walked towards the front of the room. "I trust you all enjoyed your winter vacation." Mumbled agreements came up from the room. "There are sign-up sheets posted around the school for new activities, especially our winter musical." He shot a glance at Axel, who was attempting to create a basketball purely made from fire in his hands. "Axel."

"What?" Saïx glared at him. "Oh, fine." The basketball extinguished itself.

"Continuing on," the blue-haired berserker said, "there will be single and pairs auditions for said musical, et cetera, et cetera." He walked down the aisle, still glancing at the sheet of papers in his hands. "There is also a final sign-up sheet for the Academic Decathlon competition. If you have any questions, ask Marluxia."

"Not that I can answer them for you," came a dour response. Saïx cleared his throat, and Marluxia rubbed his temples wearily and managed to force something akin to cheerfulness. "I mean, I'd be ecstatic to."

In the meanwhile, Demyx had leaned over his desk and had been asking Zexion how in the world his phone worked. The shorter young man had managed to turn it on before sending the complicated little machine back towards the blonde musician. Demyx had searched through the menu options and had come across something called a ringtone. Curiosity sparked the better half of him.

The reader can probably figure out the rest on their own.

Now technically, according the movie, it should have been Axel's phone that went off. But since Axel was too busy trying to melt Saïx's desk without him noticing, fate pretty much rearranged the other way. Not that it mattered. Because as soon as the ringtones on Demyx's cellphone began going off, Axel remembered what he was _supposed_ to be doing and took his phone out of his pocket. Roxas, thinking that it was his cue, pulled out the phone from his backpack while Larxene reached into her purse (or was it a bag?) and took out the pink phone the costume department had shoved into her hand earlier.

Either way, it worked.

Moments later, all of their cellphones had been confiscated and detentions had been given out (perhaps a little too eagerly by a certain blue-haired berserker).

As Axel dropped his phone in the bucket their "teacher" was holding, Luxord raised an eyebrow. "We have basketball practice. He can't have detention."

"Well, then, you can join him to keep him company. Fifteen minutes."

Even if it was acting, Luxord couldn't help but be a little annoyed that he just gotten detention, and muttered a curse under his breath.

In the back of the classroom, Marluxia smirked. "Someone's enjoying this a little too much."

"Fifteen minutes for you too, Marluxia!"

Larxene and Axel snickered at the look of shock on the assassin's face. Even if the lines were in the script, it still sucked to be given detention at their age. Saïx scowled at the both of them before not-quite-slamming the bucket down on Axel's desk. "Do you want to make it thirty?"

They both shut up.

Zexion shook his head in exasperated amusement as the bell rang.

The students flocked out of the classroom (not quick enough, by the way some scrambled past Saïx's desk), and into the hallway. Luxord passed Axel on his way out, and said, with a sigh, "See you in detention."

"I swear, I thought I heard that for the last time ages ago," the redhead responded as Roxas emerged from the classroom. A grin spread across his face as he tapped the smaller youth on the shoulder. "Roxas!"

The blonde smiled. "What a _huge_ coincidence, finding you here."

Somewhere behind the cameras, Ralph groaned.

"I don't believe it. How…?"

"My mom's company transferred her here," said Roxas with a shrug. "I can't believe it either. I looked for you the next day at the lodge, and I couldn't find you anywhere."

"We had to leave right away the next morning."

Roxas stared at him. "Okay…but why are you whispering?" Axel blinked, and then looked around, scratching behind his head with an embarrassed grin.

"Oh, yeah. Well, my friends know about the snowboarding bit…just not the singing part." Roxas gave him a look that obviously said "whatever", and Axel chuckled. "Hey, I'm the captain of the basketball team. Singing…it's just not my thing."

The two continued walking down the hallway, ignoring the cameras that were still stationed around them like hawks. Axel wondered if he could get away with melting the surrounding machinery, and then decided against it. The Higher-Ups might slap him with a lawsuit that he definitely did not have the munny to pay off (unless he borrowed some from Luxord, but then it would be years before he would be able to pay the gambler back).

They rounded a corner, coming right up on the sign-up sheet for the musical. "And now that you've met our resident drama teacher, I bet you can't wait to sign up for that."

"I'm not that crazy," Roxas said with a small smile. "Besides, it's my first day. I won't be signing up for anything for awhile." Then, with a sly look, "But if you sign up, I'll definitely come and cheer you on."

"You wouldn't make a good cheerleader. The short skirt probably isn't a good look on you."

Somewhere in KH fandom, a fangirl squealed and melted into a large pile of fangirlish goo.

"And how would you know that?" a voice asked in amusement, and Larxene stepped around the corner, grinning at the two with a glint in her eyes that neither of the two young men liked. "Something you'd like to tell all of us?"

"Mind, meet gutter. Gutter, mind."

Larxene just laughed, stepping in front of the bulletin board. "So nice of you to show our new classmate around." She gave Roxas a quick look-over before turning, pulling a (pink?) pen from her pocket, and scrawling her name in very, very large letters on the sign-up sheet. Behind her back, Axel and Roxas shared amused looks.

The blonde young woman capped her pen and spun back around. "Were you two going to sign up, too?" She smirked. "Demyx and I have starred in all the school's productions, and we really welcome newcomers. Lots of supporting roles, after all."

"Wasn't really interested in signing up," Roxas said with a forced smile. "Axel was just showing me around. A lot's going on at the school." He began to walk away. "Nice pen, Larxene. It's very…pink." At the nymph's glare, Roxas laughed and waved good-bye to Axel. "I'll see you around." Without another word, he rounded a corner and was gone, leaving Axel and Larxene standing in front of the bulletin board.

"So…" Larxene said, putting her pen into her bag (or was it a purse?). "We missed you during vacation. What did you do?"

"None of your business."

"Ouch. Someone's a little touchy."

"Oh, fine. I played basketball. Did some snowboarding. More basketball. You know, the usual." Larxene grinned at him, and once again, that evil glint flickered in her eyes.

"Keeping the big game in mind, hmm? You're so dedicated. I'm sure Roxas…"

Axel scowled. "Don't even go there."

A smile that was not-so-innocent. "Wouldn't dare to. I just appreciate dedication. Is that so wrong?" Axel somehow managed not to groan as he turned to leave. "Good-bye, Axel!" The redhead nodded his farewell before quickly getting out of that scene before Larxene decided to tease him any further.

The blonde, for her part, gave a quick glance at the sign-up sheet, and smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all…

oOo

Back on Destiny Islands, Sora and company were discovering the meaning of hindsight.

The three main heroes had encircled Naminé and her drawing pad and were arguing amongst themselves about the pictures in her notebook, especially the one that had caused them to slightly panic a few chapters back. Naminé had quietly gone to eating a hot fudge sundae and saying as little as humanly possible while Sora, Kairi, and Riku discussed the ways this could not end badly.

"Well, technically, it's not really a crack pairing…"

"Every couple on this page is a crack pairing, Sora. And it is very, very _wrong_."

"Is it even possible?"

"What, legally or physically?"

"Well, I've heard of worse pairings."

"Is there anything worse than that?"

"Me and Roxas."

Silence.

"Ewww…"

"There's a joke in there somewhere, I know there is."

"Should we even try to stop this from happening?"

Naminé finished her ice cream.

"How do we know it's even going to happen?"

"Murphy's Law, duh."

"I hate Murphy's Law."

Naminé cleared her throat.

"I swear, of all the random yaoi and yuri pairings, this one takes the cake."

"Well, what if we just changed our-?"

"I could just destroy the picture…"

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at the small blonde-haired young woman, who had flipped her sketchbook open to the picture in question. Without fanfare, she ripped the picture into tiny pieces, and let the shreds of paper fall into her now empty sundae bowl. "Problem solved."

"Well…" Riku said after a moment, crossing his arms. "There's always that way."

Kairi smiled, and then picked up the notebook, flipping through the pages again before coming across a single picture that wasn't even quite finished yet. "But we still have this little problem." Naminé looked at the picture in question, and blushed slightly. Kairi giggled. "I mean, it looks like it's going to be a nice picture. But, since it's also a plot device…"

"There goes the fourth wall…" murmured Sora with a wink. Kairi playfully hit him on the shoulder.

"As I was saying, it's a plot device," the red-haired girl said. "And the fangirls will demand it." She gestured towards the picture. "I guess the thing that saves us is that it's more canon than that other picture was…"

Sora looked up after a moment. "Hey, do you think we should tell them?" He waved his hand off in some general direction.

"The narrator will probably say something eventually…" replied Riku with a shrug.

A moment of silence.

"Hmmm…must've gone to get something to eat…" Kairi noted with a frown.

No, the narrator is trying very hard to stay behind the fourth wall. And any plot devices will be revealed later. Honestly…

"Okay, we get it," Sora said with a grin. "We won't say a word!" He turned to the others. "Will we?"

Three heads nodded in response, and the narrator can't help but get a sinking feeling in her stomach…

oOo

The phone rang in some undisclosed, but probably very important location. A man with very blue eyes pulled the phone out of his pocket, glanced at the caller ID with a raised eyebrow, and then held it to his ear. "Hello?"

"We've been trying to contact you all morning!"

"Sorry. My phone's been off." A grin spread across his face. "Did you need me for anything?"

"They ran off."

The man laughed. "Who?" The voice on the other end scowled. "Sorry. But what does that have to do with me? It's been months since I last saw them."

"There are contract negotiations involved. The other Higher-Ups really need them back here. Since you're in town, I would think one of them may have called you."

Another laugh, and very blue eyes twinkled beneath a mop of dark brown hair. "I don't think I can help you. But I'll keep my eye on them. This city's only so big." There was disgruntled harrumph on the other end of the line before the phone went dead. The man laughed as he folded his phone and placed it back into his pocket. After a moment, he looked around the table with a knowing look.

"You guys have some explaining to do. _They_ just called."

The five other occupants at the table shared looks before the youngest boy managed an uneasy grin.

"Oh, yeah…about that…"

oOo

Axel really, really, _really_ did not want to do the next scene.

The cameras had all moved to the gym for the first major dance number in the movie, and the choreographer nobody was going over last minute rehearsals with some of the extras. Axel had noticed Demyx and Roxas sneak in around half-an-hour earlier to sit on some bleachers off-screen, but was too annoyed to go over and tell them to leave.

He sighed miserably, shifting uncomfortably in his red-and-white Wildcat uniform. This day was slowly, and simply, becoming hell on earth.

Ralph, who had decided to stay behind the safety of the cameras for his own health, was chewing on the eraser of a pencil, watching as the "jocks" prepared themselves for the upcoming scenes. He was glad that Xaldin was nowhere to be found – he had told everyone on the crew that the lancer was to be nowhere near the gym unless absolutely necessary.

Checking his watch, he let out a sigh. Well, it was now or never. "Alright. Places, everyone!"

He did his best to ignore the flaming green glare that Axel sent his way.

Luxord casually walked up to Axel, holding a basketball in one hand, and a wad of dollar bills in the other. Axel raised an eyebrow at the amount of money the gambler was holding, and the blonde simply chuckled, and replied, "They still haven't learned." Without another word, the money disappeared in a miniature black vortex.

"And action!"

"Does he really have to have a megaphone for that?" Axel asked in annoyance. He turned to Luxord, snatching the basketball from out of his comrade's hands. "So…about that musical…do you think we get extra credit for just trying out?"

Luxord gave him a look. "Does it matter?"

"Hey, extra credit is always good…for college…or something…" Axel trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. Luxord grabbed the basketball out of his hands, and slowly began to dribble it.

"Do you really think that professional basketball players tried out for musicals?" he asked with a frown. "And even if they did, you never heard about it. So what does it matter?"

"How do you know they never did?"

A smile crept onto the gambler's face. "Would you like to place a wager that they didn't?"

"Luxord! Axel!" Ralph.

Axel snorted. "Well, fine. I thought it might be a good laugh." He grimaced suddenly, and suddenly looked like he very much wanted to burn slash cripple slash murder someone. "Larxene's…kinda…sort of…in a very remote way…I guess, she's a little bit cute."

"Ha!" This time, this sounded from a spot where Axel had the impression Demyx and Roxas were sitting. He glared over in that general direction, heard muffled laughter, and promised that once he got his hands on those two, they would be wishing they had never been…er…non-born?

Luxord shook his head, pale blue eyes narrowed in probable amusement. "Mountain lions are also cute, but they have a nasty bite." With a laugh, he began to walk backwards towards the other players, leaving Axel standing by himself, contemplating what he just said. The redhead rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a breath.

"Oh, fine then." He spun around and raced towards his teammates. "Wildcats, pair up! Let's go."

Off-camera, Roxas looked towards Demyx. "Are you going to bring that camera with you to all the musical numbers?" Demyx grinned and winked at him.

"Of course. Axel and Luxord both hate doing this. I don't know about Zexion…but I guess since he's actually a good basketball player, it doesn't matter as much."

Roxas shook his head. "You are so wrong." The beat of the music began, and Roxas turned back to watch the dance number take place, completely oblivious to the Cabbage Patch doll that sat in a dozen or so bleachers above them.

"_Coach said to fake right / And break left / Watch out for the pick / And keep your eye on defense_." Axel spun around, passing the basketball to one of the other players. Roxas simply blinked at the complicated choreography that combined both basketball moves with dance moves.

_Axel managed to get this down…? _

"_Gotta run the give and go / And take the ball to the hole / But don't be afraid / To shoot the outside "J_"…"

The ball easily passed through the net, and the players cheered. Axel gave a grin that would have been scary if Roxas hadn't known that he was actually…probably…most likely enjoying himself. "_Just keep ya head in the game / Just keep ya head in the game / And don't be afraid / To shoot the outside "J" / Just keep ya head in the game_!"

The other players surrounded him, already hyped up from the rhythm of the music. Roxas sat with his elbows on his knees, looking very amused as he watched Axel, Luxord, and Zexion dance to the song. Demyx who was quietly snapping pictures the entire time. After a minute or two, a thought occurred to the smaller blonde. "Hey…Demyx. Who's going to take pictures of you when you and Larxene have to dance together?"

Silence.

"I'll do it for you."

"Don't you dare."

Roxas grinned. "Embarrassed, much?"

"No, but if she finds those pictures, I'll be dead much."

Meanwhile, back on the court, the song had already broken into the solo. Axel found himself standing in the middle of the circle of basketball players, thinking who in the world would actually install a spotlight into the gym of all places? Geez…

"_Why am I feeling so wrong / My head's in the game / But my heart's in the song_…" He glanced over to where he knew Roxas was sitting, and winked. "_He makes this feel so right_…" A chuckle at the blue-eyed glare he received. "Should I go for it? Better shake this…yikes."

Demyx turned to Roxas, who was looking particularly murderous and flustered, as the dance interlude began. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine," came the disgruntled response.

Right, Roxas. Sure you are.

oOo

**Author's Note** (19 Feb 07): Honestly, it definitely helps to know what the dance to "Get'cha Head In the Game" looks like, because there is no way I could write down every little step they do in that dance. Oi.

This is the longest chapter so far. But it was _too_ fun to write (hehehe, Larxene and Demyx's outfits are going to be fun to describe…). But it's also hard, because everyone keeps falling in-and-out of character (not exactly my fault, but hey…). Well, I'll try to work on that, but hopefully it'll be easier in future chapters as the Organizations begins to get a little…_too_ into character. Ah, but I can't reveal too much, or else I'll spoil the plot before Sora and Co. can.

And fangirls, you can take that last scene however you want.

And what's up with the Cabbage Patch doll? And who is this new mysterious character helping the five renegades youngsters? Does anybody have any clue as to who they are…I should probably give more clue, hmm?

In the next chapter, more stuff happens. Yea.

Again, thanks for the hits and the faves and the reviews. They make me über-happy, and they make me update faster (hint hint). Until then, I'm off to work on **Please Excuse My French**.

- Nashie


	7. Interludeish

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: I don't own _Kingdom Hearts_ or _High School Musical_. Oh, and I finally beat Demyx – only to die at the hands of Riku in the Land of Dragons. Yeah, lousy.

oOo

Revised: 3 April 2007

oOo

Somewhere in the high school, a karaoke machine was blaring "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going".

Loudly.

Now, the song is not bad. In fact, it's actually really, really good – if put in the hands of a capable vocalist. However, whoever was belting out the lyrics was not a capable vocalist. Heck, they probably weren't capable of speaking if the over-the-top riffs and octave-flipping were any hints…oh, wait. That describes every other contestant on _American Idol_ – the narrator digresses.

Anyway, the song kept playing, the singer (and even that term is used very loosely) kept belting, and people passing by the room with the karaoke machine were thinking about ending the singer's (again, the term is used very loosely) life prematurely.

Of course, what better way to knock someone off than have an Organization member do it?

It just so happened that an Organization member was passing down the hallway. Number II, to be exact. At first, he thought that someone was horrendously murdering a bunch of Dusks with a chainsaw covered in flaming weasels (Xigbar is one of the few Organization members that still has an active imagination), but as he drew nearer to the window, he was finally able to make out the lyrics. The horribly murdered lyrics to a wonderfully lovely song.

Now, the Organization is widely considered to be the villains of _Kingdom Hearts 2_ and _Chain of Memories_. After all, look at all the trouble they put Sora through. But there are some things so evil that even the Organization wouldn't do – one of which is karaoke (which ranks number five on the top ten most evil things ever in existence, right under homework, little children, Brussels sprouts, and _American Idol_).

So Xigbar, doing the honorable thing, went into the room and put the poor karaoke machine out of its misery.

The girl who was holding the mike looked positively puzzled by the sudden lack of music, and opened her eyes, still grasping her mike. She took one look at the smoking karaoke machine, one look at Xigbar (who looked strangely out of place in his principal costume and gun arrows), and then her lower lip began to quiver.

It stopped quivering when Xigbar pointed one of his guns at her.

"Uh-uh, miss. We're _so_ not going to go there. I suggest you stop while you're ahead and get out of here."

The girl ran out.

Xigbar grinned. "Man, I _still_ got it."

A muffled groan cut off his victory speech. Blinking, Xigbar ventured further into the room. It was an ordinary classroom – desks, a blackboard, books (must've been the social studies slash history room), and various other random school supplies. And…Demyx?

The ninth member of the Organization was bound and gag (somewhere in KH fandom, a BDSM fangirl squealed and melted into a puddle of fangirlish goo), and sitting underneath the teacher's desk, for some reason that Xigbar couldn't even begin to guess. He knelt down next to the blonde, raising an eyebrow as he untied the gag around his mouth. "Is this one of those things I'm better off not knowing about?"

Demyx didn't say a word – but there was a look of certain doom in his eyes. For those who are aware of Demyx's personality, one would never think that he could get seriously mad. After all, he's the goofball of the Organization, the odd one out. But the look in his eyes at the very moment promised death. It is reasonable to note that when Demyx of all people gets mad, bad things are most likely to happen.

Xigbar seemed to know this, and he whistled low under his breath. "Woah, dude. Who's going to be the homicide victim?"

"He _dies_."

"Well, that's to the point." A frown. "Wait, who dies?" But before Xigbar could even finish his question, Demyx had disappeared in a dark portal. Xigbar scratched his head. "Oookay. Why didn't he do that before?"

That little question will be added to the ever-growing list of mysteries of the universe.

Xigbar walked out of the room, still holding one of the ropes that had been used to tie Demyx up, a thoughtful look on his face. Looking down the hallway, and noticing that some of the cast was beginning to return now that the awful singing had stopped, he began to head towards his office. The fact that he still held his gun arrows only slightly bothered (read: freaked and terrified) some of the roaming non-Organization members of the cast.

As he made his way down some stairs, he heard the sounds of…yelling? Yup, definitely yelling. And…minor explosions? Well, those were never good (depending on what exactly was exploding…there was a nifty little toaster of nilch back in the Kitchen That Never Was that would beg to differ). And it seemed to be coming a few floors down, so the noises were definitely loud, though not as teeth-grindingly bad as a certain karaoke singer from a few paragraphs ago.

Of course, Xigbar went to go investigate.

He had made it to the first landing when he was finally able to make out the shouting.

"Get back here!!"

"No way! I value my life!"

"Hey, hey, watch where you're swinging that thing…holy sh-!"

Another explosion.

"This is so your fault!"

"Just give me the stupid camera!!!"

"Give you the camera? That'd probably be a bad idea…"

A few crashes later…

"That's it – you are freakin' _eunuch_ for the rest of your miserable life!!!!"

"Holy darkness, he's _serious_!"

Now too curious for his good, Xigbar raced down the rest of the stairs and into the hallway where the fighting was currently taking place. As he rounded the corner, he could only raise an eyebrow at the spectacle before him. Then, just because it was too funny, he chuckled.

Demyx had obviously found the person he was raging war with – Axel. He held his sitar threateningly as his water clones chased the poor redhead up and down the hall, even while he was lashing out with fiery attacks of his own with his chakrams. Roxas was pulling on Demyx's arm, in a futile attempt to get the taller blonde to stop, but the musician was paying him no heed. Larxene was yelling obscenities behind all of them, electric sparks dancing around her in fury.

Meanwhile, Zexion sat off to the side of the entire fiasco, reading Faust, somehow managing to avoid getting hit by Demyx's geyers and Axel's fireballs. A camera was silently dangling from his free hand.

And they were all still wearing their costumes.

Xigbar's laugh stopped the action for just a moment, but before long, the fighting had continued. Xigbar watched, with his arms crossed, before deciding, as the highest-ranking member currently in the high school, to do something about the whole mess.

He waved one arm, and a few seconds later, Demyx was hanging upside down from the ceiling, Axel was floating some yards away in midair, and Roxas was standing (and, not to mention, looking very confused) on the wall. Larxene and Zexion were the only ones unaffected by the sudden warp of space, though Larxene looked just as confused by the sudden change as the three young men were. Only Zexion seemed to note who was responsible for the stop in the fight, and nodded imperceptibly in Xigbar's direction.

Axel, for his part, scowled. "Not funny, Xigbar."

Xigbar snorted and crossed his arms. "Dude, you're in no position to talk. You pissed _Demyx_ of all people off." He raised an eyebrow. "What'd you do?"

Zexion raised the camera slightly, never lifting his eyes from the book. "It involves this. Needless to say, Demyx was actually the one who started it." Demyx gave a shout of protest, and Zexion shook his head. "Well, it's true, and you know it." The blonde mumbled something beneath his breath, and his sitar disappeared in a flurry of watery bubbles. Yes, bubbles (exactly what would _you_ call them?).

"If you hadn't taken those stupid pictures…!" Axel began, but his retort was cut off by Roxas' glare.

"You're the one who stuck him in that room with the Broadway belter wannabe," the blonde said with a scowl, trying to find out how to get himself off the wall. Failing at that (after all, the floor was currently acting as a wall to him), he turned his glare to Xigbar. "I had nothing to do with this. Why am I stuck on the wall?"

"Because, little dude, that's just the way things are," Xigbar smirked.

Roxas kept glaring.

Larxene, who was fed up with stupidity of her fellow (male) Organization members, threw her hands up in the air and rolled her eyes. "Great. Now we're going to hear it from Ralph on why we're late to our next scene." She jabbed a finger in Xigbar's general direction, blue-green eyes flaring. "You get him off that wall now. We have a scene to do and I'm not spending one moment longer than necessary in this outfit."

"Manners are overrated." Xigbar grinned. "Don't you say 'please' anymore?"

"Now!" (Obviously not).

Roxas crashed to the floor. He would have cursed, but Larxene grabbed his arm, and vanished with him before he could even began to get off the floor (again, Xigbar wondered why in the world neither of them just teleported earlier).

Now, he was alone with the three remaining Organization members. Zexion was climbing to his feet, still holding the camera, and giving Demyx an admonishing look. "Xigbar, I'll take care of Demyx if you want to deal with Axel." Demyx and Axel both opened their mouths to protest, but the looks from the senior members of the Organization made them shut them almost right away. Zexion tucked his book under his arm, and then waved one hand, and Demyx disappeared into a black portal. Seconds later, Zexion was also gone.

With everyone else gone, Xigbar turned to where Axel was still hanging in the air. "Well?"

"What?"

"'And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going?'" Axel smirked.

"Hey, I went easy on him. I could have had her sing 'Lady Marmalade.'"

"Please. We never would have found your body." Space warped, and Axel found himself standing on solid ground again. "Still…exactly what did Demyx take a picture of that got you all in negative gung-ho mood?" Axel crossed his arms and glared at the dark-haired freeshooter, and Xigbar couldn't help but grin. "You look totally caught! C'mon, you can tell Uncle Xigbar."

The slightly freaked look the redhead gave him was an answer in itself, but he still said, "No."

"Was it that bad?"

Axel sighed. "Me and Roxas were playing basketball. That's it."

"Uh-huh. I think I'm disinclined to believe you, Number VIII."

More glaring. "Whatever." And without further ado, Axel stalked down the hallway towards the auditorium, leaving Xigbar standing in the hallway, shaking his head in amusement. Of course, now his curiosity had been piqued…just playing basketball, hmm?

With a grin, he vanished into a dark portal.

A few moments later, the hallway was occupied once again – but this time, but someone who definitely was not supposed to be there. In the person's arm was a small, chubby-faced doll with hair made from yarn. It looked suspiciously like…a Cabbage Patch kid.

"Pictures, hmm?" the person said curiously, glancing down at the doll. "I don't think I believe Number VIII either. I wonder exactly how much of that you managed to catch."

A small frown formed on the person's face before they continued down the rest of the hall, before disappearing.

The plot thickens. Da-dum.

oOo

Somewhere on the other side of the space-time continuum, five certain youngsters were getting scolded by a not-quite youngster.

"You ran out on the Higher-Ups? You guys are crazy." The dark-haired, blue-eyed man from last chapter was waving a French fry around as he jabbed it in the general direction of the five young people. "Last time I checked, when someone tried to do that, they got – what's the word…oh yeah – fired."

"Technically, we're not even hired for what they're trying to do," the youngest girl murmured, stealing a French fry off the older man's plate. "That's why we ran away. At least for today, until we find a loophole." She shrugged as she bit of the tip of the fry. "Who cares if we get in trouble for it?"

The dark-haired boy nodded in agreement. "Exactly. I mean, we can put it off as long as possible before He comes looking for us." At the mention of Him, a cymbal clashed in the background. The six looked around as inconspicuously as possible, but didn't find the offending cymbalist anywhere. Shrugging it off as mere coincidence, they went back the conversation at hand.

The oldest girl, who was pinning her curly hair back into a manageable ponytail, smiled at the man. "Well, do you think you can help us? There are so many loopholes we can actually find."

"You mean how you are all already connected to the Higher-Ups' project?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He turned to the young man who had driven them all there. "I thought you were already neck-deep in that?" The boy sighed.

"Somehow, I am." Then he glared. "But we have to leave it at that or I might break the space-time continuum."

Something shattered in the background. Once again, they all looked around, but did not find the offending glass.

The man let out an uneasy laugh. "Somehow, I get the feeling you just did…" He then waved his hand, flagging down a passing waiter. "Check, please!"

oOo

In relation to this conversation, it is recommended that the reader take a hop, skip, and a jump over to Destiny Islands.

Everything was still perfect there. Still-perfect skies. Still-perfect waters. Still-perfect weather.

There was just one thing missing.

Actually, make that four things.

Actually, make that four someones.

Actually, make _that_ three Somebodies and one Nobody.

…crap.

oOo

"Hey, Larxene. Can I talk to you?'

CrrraackSNAP! "No."

Demyx looked at the burned spot on the floor where the lightning bolt had hit and winced. He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "C'mon, Larxene. It's important. Like really, really important."

The blonde girl spun on her heel, turning flaming aqua eyes towards Demyx. "No is no. We're already going to be late for the next scene because you and Axel and Roxas decided to play tag with Captain Planet's powers and I am going to be stuck in this stupid pink outfit for another hour because of it! Now, if you really see any reason why I should listen to anything you have to say at this point, you can shove it right where the sun doesn't shine because I'd like to fry your brain into a smoldering crisp and feed it to Saïx!"

Demyx frowned. "So…no, then?"

Larxene glared and continued her march of death down the hallway.

"But, Larxene, I swear – it's important!" He raced to catch up with her. "It has to do with the camera! You weren't there when Roxas and Axel shot their first scene! When they had to sing!" Larxene snorted.

"I didn't have to be there to know how bad they did."

"That's just it – they did great! They actually sang the song and got applause! Real applause!"

Larxene halted in her walk, a look (that was not easily describable but would probably bode ill for the two Organization members in question) crossing her face. Demyx took her silence to mean that she was listening, and plunged ahead. "So, I was thinking, since we're going to have to do a duet within the week…"

"Stop right there," Larxene spat out coldly, turning her fierce glare towards him. "Do you know what this means? They think they're going to outperform us? Like hell am I going to be embarrassed in front of the rest of the Organization for this stupid project. You know what, I bet that lousy flaming redhead is up to _something_."

A slow smile that would scare little children (and even frightened Demyx a little bit) spread across her face.

"It looks like the script is in need of a rewrite…"

oOo

**Author's Note** (05 Mar 07): I know what you're thinking – "that's it?"

Yup, this is the final chapter of **This is Not High School Musical**. I decided my muse went and packed its bags and hopped on a midnight train to Georgia and isn't coming back. So, as much as I adored the hits and reviews and favorites, this is the graduation for the cast. Thanks for reading!

……

…

Just kidding. (is immediately maimed by half of the readers) Wah! I'm sorry! Forgive me! No, I agree - it wasn't funny! (sniffs)

But in truth, I'm really sorry for the lateness of this chapter (**Please Excuse My French**, like the newborn fanfiction it is, demanded my time). Then I was going to update yesterday but my overzealous Big Brother froze the computer…and the last part of this chapter went buh-bye into lost document heaven. And since I promised that next chapter would be up by Monday at the latest, I had to work with what I had.

Which means a double edition of **TiNHSM** is coming next weekend. (winks) Free Organization XIII gingerbread cookies for all!

See, it all works out in the end. And then I'll probably disappear for a week as I try to work on **Somebody, Somewhere, Someday** and, lord help me, another crazy comedy KH fanfic I have in my head. (groans)

Did I give another hint for the identities of the six mysterious people roaming Los Angeles? Maybe I might sneak something in the next chapter as we finally, finally, _finally_ get to the auditions.

Now, you all have read to the bottom of this fic, meaning that the "Submit Review" button is right under this last paragraph. Hint, hint. Even if it's short, the narrator would love to know what the readers think! Either that, or no digital Organization XIII gingerbread cookies for you!

- Nashie


	8. Detention

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: Hey, I didn't own them in the first seven chapters, what makes you think I own them now? Yup, didn't think so.

oOo

Revised: 3 April 2007

oOo

A few years ago, a couple of really, really, really evil people met during the annual Villains United conference held in Santa Barbara to discuss future plans for world domination through conquering various governments, uprooting the economic system, and finally putting a Starbucks with mind-controlling coffee on every known New York City block. During this conference, as per usual, some new items are added to the list of most evil things in the known universe.

Since the list's foundation back in the Middle Ages (where the plague was the first thing to be added onto the list, followed by potatoes and by this dude named Christopher Columbus who insisted he found the West Indies, and was intent on telling everyone within shouting difference that he was a genius for not falling off the face of the planet – even though many people wish he had), many different things have been added onto it.

Strangely enough, calculus was not one of them.

The cousins of calculus, namely physics (which was taken off the list after _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children_ came out, because hey, physics got a severe beating into oblivion in that movie) and algebra, held prominent positions on the list. But calculus, despite the argument of many of the villains at the conference, remained off the list, often given an honorable mention plaque instead.

After sitting through ten minutes of said calculus though, Marluxia was intent on not only getting the stupid subject on the list, but making it number one.

The scene had been shot late (due to some sort of disturbance in the floor above…something to do with a camera), so Larxene and Roxas were getting glared at by many of the extras as the Calculus Teacher Nobody prattled on about derivatives and exponentials and integrals. Neither of the two blondes seemed to care that many of the extras' animosity had turned towards them. Roxas simply glared at the chalkboard while Larxene twirled her (pink) pen in her hands, a decidedly curious, vengeful look in her eyes.

That did not bode well at all.

As the Calculus Teacher Nobody turned back towards the board to write down an equation, a slow grin spread across Larxene's face and she leaned over the lab table towards Roxas. "Hey, Roxas. About you and Axel…?"

Roxas frowned, glancing down at his notebook. "What about me and Axel?"

Larxene smirked. "Well…I just wanted to say, you two were looking awfully friendly earlier at the sign-up sheet." Roxas glared at her, but Larxene continued on. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

"He was just showing me around the school," came the distracted reply, as the blonde boy took one look at his calculus notes and one look at the board and then looked completely perplexed.

"He doesn't usually do that with new students," Larxene said off-handedly, that plotting look still in her eye. "You know…captain of the basketball team doesn't usually have time for things like that. You must be something else to be the exception."

"Not now, Larxene…" Roxas murmured, staring at his notebook. He looked back up again. "Um…am I still supposed to say something if the equation on the board is right?"

Behind the cameras, Ralph, who was pouring himself a nice size glass of whiskey, blinked. "Eh?"

"The equation on the board is right. Exactly what am I _supposed_ to say?"

Ralph and the various members of the crew shared looks. Marluxia tapped the edge of his pencil against the desk in muted annoyance as they quickly stopped the cameras, walked over to the chalkboard, and erased the "right" part of equation, filling in a "wrong" answer instead. Ralph took a look at the crew's handiwork and gave a wan smile. "There you go. Now it's wrong. Go ahead and condemn away." Roxas sighed as the cameras began to roll again. He took once last glance down at his notebook, and then back up at the chalkboard.

"Then…it should say sixteen over pi."

The Calculus Teacher Nobody turned around, frowning. "Pardon?"

"The second equation is wrong…it should be sixteen over pi. It says…" Roxas trailed off as he stared at the chalkboard. "Are you serious? Did you guys actually write that?"

Silence on the set as all eyes turned towards the chalkboard.

Marluxia raised an eyebrow. "X over pi? Don't we already have a variable in this?"

"The 'n'?"

"Wait, are we trying to find out 'x' or 'n'?"

"If we have an 'x', shouldn't we have 'y' too?"

"Why?"

"Yeah."

"No, I mean, why?"

"Yeah. 'Y'."

Before the very bad, ill-placed Abbott-and-Costello joke could go any further, the teacher through its hands in the air, and quickly erased the 'x' putting the number '8' in its place. "There. Satisfied?"

Roxas blinked. "It's still not right. It should be sixteen over pi."

"Argh!" More frantic erasing. "There! Are you happy!? It's sixteen now!"

Roxas shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. I'm just following the script. For all I know, you could have been right." And with that, he turned back to his notebook, where he had been conveniently hiding his Nintendo DS. The Calculus Teacher Nobody gritted its teeth and turned its attention back to the board, muttering something under its breath about little blonde upstarts. Marluxia shook his head in annoyance and turned back to his own notebook, while Larxene, who had once again returned to her thoughtful pose, smiled and sat back up, that Cheshire cat smile still dancing across her lips.

Behind the cameras, Ralph reached for another glass of whiskey.

Thank goodness for him that the bell decided to ring at the exact moment. It took approximately 3.14 seconds for the classroom to be deserted of all Organization members and extras. And yes…that was a pun.

The crew began to clear out of the room too to head over to shoot the next scene – after all, they were behind schedule. They packed up their equipment as quickly as possible (meaning that it still took the better part of the hour) and headed towards the high school's main atrium, leaving Ralph in the room by himself, nursing his drink.

While he contemplated returning to the edge of the World That Never Was with the other Executive Nobodies, his phone began to ring.

"_Hmm, an incoming call, you have! Answer it, you should_! _Hmm_, _an incoming call, you_-" Ralph groaned and flipped open his nifty camera phone without checking the caller ID. "What do you want?"

Silence, and then, "Is that any way to talk to your Boss?"

Ralph turned an unhealthy shade of white, and if he hadn't been sitting down or somewhat fortified by liquor at that point, he would most likely have sprawled ungracefully onto the floor. Rather, he was still sitting in his (somewhat) comfortable director chair, and that saved him the embarrassment of collapsing on the floor. "Oh…hey. I didn't know…I didn't check…uh…"

"How's the project coming along?"

"Uh…it's coming…um…we're a bit behind schedule…there was an incident of sorts earlier…"

"Ralph, as the director, I have placed a lot of trust in your ability to complete this project on time and within budget." A heavy and very weight silence ensued (for those curious, the call had not been dropped – this was one of those dramatic, heart-pounding silences that were used to make a point). "I hope my faith was not misplaced."

Ralph was beginning to sweat. "No, no, no. Of course not! Nothing of the sort! We're going to be on schedule by tonight!"

"How is the cast doing? Are they aware of the true purpose of this project?"

_Ready to kill me at the drop of the hat, sir. _But, Ralph, being the courteous Executive Nobody that he was, simply said, "Fantastic. And, no."

More silence. "That's very good. I want to be posted on any changes in schedule. We're having our own problems over here with the lack of cooperation of–"

"Oh, right!" Ralph cut in, thankful that the subject had been changed. "How are the contract negotiations coming?"

"Not very well. They ran out on us. We called someone who may know their location, but he said he hadn't seen them either." A deep laugh on the other end of the phone. "But they'll come back. Nobody can escape us. Very soon, we'll take the Organization."

Ralph would have whimpered, but he was too busy chugging down the rest of his bottle of whiskey.

oOo

On the other side of the school (very far away from a soon-to-be drunk Executive Nobody), the extras milled around the hallway, in an aimless search of classes they didn't really have to go to. The Organization members were nowhere to be found…well, except for Numbers VIII and IX, who probably were still simmering over the events of last chapter.

But considering that the camera was now in Zexion's hands, they really had nothing to worry about.

Well, except for bad karaoke singers.

And Larxene.

But, hey, the world isn't all xenophobic spider monkeys and radioactive Twinkies.

Anyway…

The Organization's resident pyromaniac was standing in front of the audition sheet, peering at it very closely. That is, until some unknown random cast member who was probably part of the basketball team because he was in the gym during the first choreographed dance of the movie but his character doesn't really have a name so it doesn't matter if he was in the gym or not…well, _that_ guy called Axel's named and hence, peeled him away from scrutinizing the audition sheet.

Demyx, who had been so nonchalantly standing near the atrium balcony, frowned, and headed towards the audition sheet. He reached out and grabbed Larxene, who was passing by in an attempt to get to the next scene as soon as possible so she could destroy her stupid pink outfit. The blonde young woman looked anything but pleased at having been halted in her walk, only to realize that she had literally been about to pass right through another scene that was being shot.

"Axel was looking at the audition sheet," Demyx reported.

Larxene frowned. "And what you told me earlier was true?" Demyx nodded with a brief shrug of his shoulder, causing the frown on Larxene's face to deepen. "Well, I guess we're just going to have to something about that. There's something strange about that new kid anyway." With a determined look on her face, she spun on her heel and continued her march to the library.

Demyx blinked. "Hey! Wait up!"

Both musician and crew (minus a now-probably-very-drink Director) had to nearly run after Larxene as she headed towards the library of the high school set. Like earlier in the day, extras (read: frightened students) cleared out of her path as she pushed the double doors of the library open and headed straight towards the computers. Pulling out a chair, she sat down and pulled up the Internet.

Demyx raced in after her only a few seconds later, flushed from his run. He strolled over to where Larxene was sitting and looked over her shoulder at the computer screen. "Did you really have to walk so fast?"

"The faster we get these scenes done, the faster we can get back to the World That Never Was." Underneath her breath, she added, "Xemnas is not going to be getting _any_ sleep for the next two months, I swear."

A few moments later…

"Here we go…just what we needed," Larxene murmured as she pulled up a site so thoughtfully created by the computer graphics portion of the crew. On the site there was an article about how Roxas won some sort of trophy (or something) at some Academic Decathlon thingie (or something). While Demyx wondered exactly how they got Roxas to pose for the picture (though not smile – that would have been the workings of a miracle), Larxene printed out the sheet.

"Why do you think he actually wants to be in our musical?"

"You actually think he does? But, just in case, we have our first bit of blackmail. Now we just need the finishing touches."

And before anyone could stop her, she had already swept out of the library.

Demyx, meanwhile, realizing that the crew was sharing dubious looks at having to run all the way to the auditorium to shoot the next scene, took it upon himself to sit down at the computer and begin to surf YouTube.

A few minutes later, while watching some guy lip sync to some pop song, the phone in his pocket began to ring.

"_Aruba, Jamaica – oooh, I wanna take ya to Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty-_"

Demyx never did get the whole ringtone thing figured out.

"Hello?"

"Demyx, it's Zexion."

"Hey! What's up!?" Demyx minimized the window on his computer screen, completely ignoring (and probably completely ignorant of the fact) that if this was a real school, his cell phone would be confiscated, especially since they were in the library, and he would be handed over to the FBI, since the fact that he had a cell phone and was using it must mean that he's a a) cheater or b) an underground terrorist bent on taking over the world.

"I was going through the pictures on your camera."

Demyx grinned. "Yeah. Aren't they cool?"

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "I found out what Axel was so upset about." Another pause. "I deleted those pictures, in case you're wondering."

"What? You're no _fun_, Zexion. Why?"

"Because I'm going to give the camera back to you after I show Axel all those pictures are gone."

"But–"

"_Demyx_," Zexion said sternly, and the blonde youth shut his mouth. "We need to make it through this project without the fangirls. Do you really want to a chance if these pictures were leaked to them? Or the Higher-Ups? Or worse – Larxene?"

Demyx groaned. "But it was an accident! I saw it!"

"And who exactly would believe you?"

"Eh…"

"My point exactly."

Demyx sighed, and leaned back in the desk chair, so that it was only balancing on its rear legs. "Okay, okay. I see your point." He then pouted miserably. "But it's _so_ not my fault that those two have such crazy fans."

Zexion let out a long-suffering sigh on the other end of the phone – one could almost see him rubbing his temples in exasperation. "I'll talk to you later, Demyx."

"Yeah. Okay. Bye!"

Demyx hung up the phone, and then hesitated, a thoughtfully curious look appearing on his face. Teal eyes sparkled mischievously as he turned back towards the computer and maximized the YouTube website. With a grin, he began to type in something, and a few seconds later, another screen popped up that looked suspiciously like an Instant Messenger (how he managed something like that on a school computer will be added to on the list of mysteries of the universe).

With a cheerful smile, he began to type out a message.

Then, checking over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching him, he sent the message and quickly closed the window. With that finished, he picked up his shoulder pack and, whistling his ringtone, strolled out of the library.

oOo

The narrator feels the need to check in on the Destiny Islands, just to make sure last chapter's incident wasn't a glitch…

The sky is still blue. The sand is still white. The kids are still playing. And everything is still disgustingly perfect.

And those four still aren't there.

…next time the narrator encounters Sora, he dies.

oOo

Somewhere else, in a place stuck in perpetual twilight (how's that for a very realistic daylight savings time?), Sora sneezed.

"Someone's talking about you again, Sora."

The unlucky brunette sniffed and rubbed his nose, making a face at his best friend. "Probably the narrator." He sighed, placing his hands on the back of his head. "This'll be the last place the narrator looks for us. Isn't it great?"

His other three friends shared looks, and muttered replies of something along the lines of, "No, not really." Sora sighed and rolled his eyes, leaning forward, his hands on his hips.

"C'mon guys. We can put my _awesome_ plan into motion here! Hayner, Pence, and Olette will most definitely help us out!" At Riku and Kairi's glares, Sora made a face and then sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Oh, well, if you two have any ideas that are more brilliant, I'm all ears. But whatever we do, or Roxas will never speak to Naminé again! And that would cause the universe to unravel!"

Riku raised an eyebrow. "The universe as we know it is always unraveling, Sora." As Sora began to pout, Riku crossed his arms and looked towards the orangish-red sky. "But…you do have a point." He glanced over at Naminé. "And you can't just destroy the picture like last time, right?"

The blonde girl shook her head. "No, not this one." She bit her bottom lip. "This one has to stay. For Roxas."

Kairi hesitated, and then said, "But if it's going to be a problem…"

"It's not that it's a problem!" Naminé exclaimed, opening her notebook to the aforementioned page. "It's just if I destroy the picture, I lose any connection I might get with…" She trailed off. "_Them_." Sora, Riku, and Kairi shared looks. They all knew who 'them' was. How exactly they knew would be divulged into further, but the universe as they know it…well, it might start to unravel, and that would really, really suck.

"So, you can get in contact with both of them because of this picture, right?" Riku asked, as he peered at the sketch. "That's how they're remaining connected to this – through this picture, right?"

Naminé nodded and she held out her picture so that Sora and Kairi could see it too. "We would have been able to get in contact with all of them through the other picture, but…remember the pairings?"

Sora grinned at the reminder. "Yeah. Not going to be forgetting that anytime soon. If there's one thing stranger than me and Roxas, it's me and–"

"Sora!"

Somewhere in the KH fandom, a reader banged their head against a desk.

The keyblade master turned, a wide grin spreading across his face as three familiar figures ran towards them. "Hayner! Pence! Olette! Wow, it's good to see you guys!"

The Twilight Town trio, those three cheerful young kids from the _Kingdom Hearts 2_ prologue (it was not a three-hour _tutorial_, no matter what the strategy guide says), and Roxas' pseudo-best friends (hey, what else would you call them?), ran up to the quartet, wide grins on their faces. Well, except for Hayner, because he was too "cool" to smile. Whatever, Hayner.

"What are you guys doing here?" Olette asked curiously. "I thought you all went back home after…" She trailed off, and then grinned in embarrassment. "Well, _after_."

"We did, but…some issues have come up," Sora said with a bright smile. "And we're going to need your help." The trio shared dubious looks and then looked back at Sora, who had a very mischievous look in his eyes. "We need to send Roxas an e-mail. We're going to need to access that computer in that Haunted Mansion."

Hayner blinked. "Say what? Again? Man, you guys love going to that Haunted Mansion…"

"That's where a lot of plot points are at," murmured Riku under his breath, but when Hayner shot him a look, the silver-haired Keyblade master simply looked innocently at the sky.

Pence frowned and then nodded. "I think we can do that. Lets head over!"

"One thing," Hayner interrupted, and then pointed to something behind Riku. "That can't come."

Five heads turned to look at the "ANGST" sign that still hovered behind the tall young man. Sora began to laugh, Kairi giggled, and Naminé simply smiled while Olette and Pence stared.

"I swear," Riku muttered, "I'm selling this thing to Roxas."

oOo

Back on the high school set, it was time for detention.

Now, detention is often thought of to be this über-evil time of the day, where you have to write out "I will not disrupt the class by lighting hydrogen-filled balloons on fire" at least one-hundred times. Printed, not in cursive. On wide-rule paper. While listening to the teacher's Enya CD. Over and over and over again.

Except that's normal detention.

_This_ was detention with Saïx.

Yes, you may run and scream in fear.

The auditorium stage was littered with props and sets and flats and costumes. Random extras both in detention and part of the stage crew wandered around, filling their time with sewing sequins onto costumes or painting a giant moon…from behind (because after all, the audience will definitely tells what the moon looks like from the back). Saïx walked back and forth across the stage, checking the progress of each student (though it looked as if he could care less what they were doing, despite the fact that the minute anyone goofed off, he would fix them with the glare of doom that said "I _will_ go berserker on your sorry hide if you make me").

Roxas sighed, as he continued painting the back of the moon bright orange (after all, who exactly was going to see it?). This was probably the most lousy part of shooting this stupid film…next to shooting the rest of the film in general. Detention, he decided, was no fun.

He was about to get up and leave (where was Axel?) when Marluxia casually approached him, a sheet of paper in his hand. "If you want to join, that's fine."

"Huh?"

Marluxia held out the sheet of paper. "Good thing it's a Scholastic Decathlon and not a speech competition. We have our first competition next week, and there's certainly a spot for you." Roxas glanced at the papers, and then frowned.

"Where did you get those papers?"

"Didn't you put them in my locker?"

Roxas sighed. "This is my first day here – how in the world would I know where your locker is?"

"Touché." Marluxia sighed, and then ran a hand through his hair before giving an eloquent shrug. "Well, if you still want to join, we meet after school. Even though how you're supposed to catch up with our work and research in only a week is still beyond me."

The younger blonde said nothing, though he was probably thinking along the same lines. "I need to catch up on the curriculum here before I join anything."

Of course, Larxene was already on top of the situation. She walked over (from where she had been casually destroying the flood lights by blowing their fuses) and gave the two other Organization members a sly smile. "Well, well, well, Roxas. Doesn't this sound like a great opportunity? What better way to catch up in school than to spend some time with the school's smartest students?"

Roxas furrowed his brow. "What do you care?" Larxene twisted her mouth up, and looked about to say something sharp when Saïx walked past and just glared at the three of them. None of them said anything, but returned to working on…the giant moon and blowing light bulbs out.

Somewhere else, Xaldin realized two certain Nobodies were missing from a certain sports practice (the Choreographer Nobody had shown up and demanded that the team practice all the moves for the great big finale number). Xaldin, as one way have guessed, was none too pleased with this (both the dancing, and the fact that Axel and Luxord were MIA).

Back in the theatre, the cast members neither knew about this emergency rehearsal nor cared.

Axel, who was currently hanging from his knees from one of the lowered battens, was somehow managing to juggle a few tiny fireballs in his hands. Luxord, who was trying very hard to ignore the fire hazard only a few feet away, was resting against one of the painted trees, keeping one eye open on the tiny fireballs.

Saïx took one glance around the stage, and frowned. "I hope none of you make this a recurring habit, showing up in detention like this everyday." Someone in the back giggled at a joke, and Saïx shot said person a murderous look. The boy in question 'eeped' and promptly retrograded ten years, whimpering slightly. The blue-haired berserker continued to pace. "And while we're on the subject of detention, lets address this cell phone problem…"

"Let's not," someone said from the audience, and the cast turned their eyes to see a slightly-peeved Xaldin storming down the aisle. Somehow, someway, the crew had managed to talk him into wearing his "coach" outfit – a gray t-shirt, jeans, and whistle hanging from a cord around his neck. Not that anyone who saw Xaldin would believe he was a basketball coach. Especially by the way he had simply magically appeared from a dark portal near the back of the auditorium. "Where's my team, Saïx?"

Saïx frowned. "We're in the middle of something, Xaldin."

"Not anymore. I need those two in rehearsal. Now." Axel blinked, and casually flipped off the batten. Luxord stood, dusted off his pants, and the two made a hasty break for stage left.

The Organization's Number VII raised an eyebrow, and then gave Xaldin a cross look. "Care to explain why you're disrupting?"

"They have rehearsal in the gym."

"I didn't get a notice on that."

"Well, if you had just listening to the PA system, you would have heard that there was an emergency dance rehearsal for the basketball team…"

"That's trivial, Number III."

Xaldin's brows lowered and his sideburns quaked in annoyance. "So, you're saying it's trivial because it's not your scene, am I mistaken?"

On the stage, the extras and the other Organization members were beginning to move towards the exit. This, they realized, could only end very badly. Xaldin was around three seconds from pulling out his lances and Saïx looked quite tempted to go into berserker mode.

Fortunately, a certain principal came waltzing in through one of the black portals at that moment.

"Hey, guys!" Xigbar called, strolling down the aisle towards the stage. "Do you guys know how much longer we have until – oh." He took one look at the scene in front of him, and grinned. "Did I come at a bad time, or right on time?" He received two dark glares for his trouble, and he waved his hands in front of his face nonchalantly. "Oh, don't mind me. I just came to see if you guys had wrapped this scene up yet. Guess not."

"There are conflicts of interest at work here," Saïx said smoothly, golden eyes narrowed at Xaldin, who was currently giving the lower-ranking member the cold shoulder.

"There is a rehearsal in the gym," replied Xaldin. "It started at ten minutes ago, and if you had listened to the announcement, you would have realized–"

"Woah, woah, woah," Xigbar interrupted, waving his finger. "You dudes need to chill. You're getting way into our parts, and that's crazy creepy." He smirked. "I'm pulling ranks on both of you. This scene is obviously done, so Xaldin – you can go and do your dance rehearsal. And Saïx – you can stop being a drama queen."

On stage, Larxene snickered and Roxas choked back a laugh.

Neither Xaldin nor Saïx found the remarks funny.

But their irritation with Xigbar would have to be taken out on his person another day, because someone from the crew meekly called, "Cut?"

Two pairs of very annoyed eyes turned towards the unfortunate crew member who muttered a short 'eep' before swooning, and falling face first onto the floor.

Intimidating? Why in the world would anyone think that?

Since detention was finally over (and the senior Organization members were currently having a test of the wills out in the audience), Roxas dropped his brush into the first bucket he saw and ran out of the auditorium. Larxene watched him leave as Demyx approached her, wiping a fleck of dry paint from his shirt. "What's that look for?"

"I'm just wondering how good they really are," Larxene said thoughtfully. "We might have to raise the bar." Demyx blinked at her.

"You're not serious – you want us to perform for real?"

"I'm not letting Axel get the upper hand on this one."

Demyx continued to stare at her as if she had lost her mind. Larxene smirked at him and then began to head towards the opposite wing Roxas had fled to. "Like I told you before, this script is already going to hell. Might as well help it along by changing one of the major plot points."

"We can't do that," protested Demyx, following her.

"Says who?" Larxene spun around and fixed the taller blonde with a sharp glare. "If those Higher-Ups think that they can stuff us into these tacky characters with their stupid dance moves and silly clichéd feelings about how believing in yourself will overcome all odds, well, they've got another thing coming! I am not going to sit here and go along with every little piece of crap they feed to us."

Demyx sighed. "But, Larxene–"

A glare from the lithe young woman shut him up.

After a moment, she crossed her arms and frowned at him. "Well? Are you going to do this with me or not? Let me remind you that if you choose the latter, it will _not_ be a pleasant shoot for you."

Demyx scratched the back of his head at the unsubtle threat, and then let out a groan. "Fine, fine. I'm in."

Larxene grinned at him. "Perfect."

oOo

Out in the front of the school, Roxas, who had not managed to escape the clutches of the camera crew fast enough, was wondering who thought it would be a bright idea to make him and Marluxia best friends in the movie. After all, this was the same pink-haired assassin who had attempted to use his Somebody as a pawn to take over the Organization…

Roxas then paused, wondering if he was supposed to know that bit of information.

_Probably not_, he mused, as he and the taller Organization member walked on the edge of the grassy campus, amongst random yellow school buses and of course, the extras, who were relieved that the day of filming was finally, finally drawing to a close. _Along with a lot of other things I'm not supposed to know…ah well._

It wasn't that he didn't like Marluxia. It was just that, except for the Axel (who was undeniably his best friend – the friend part should be emphasized) and Demyx (who Roxas looked at with a sort of exasperated sibling-like fondness), Roxas was pretty much indifferent to all the other Organization members. Well, except for Vexen and Saïx – they were both scary. And Xemnas…but the Superior was just strange, with his fanatical devotion to a non-solid door to light.

"Our team…doesn't exactly produce the desired results that we're looking for," Marluxia said nonchalantly. "We study all the material for the meet, but still haven't managed to reach our goals."

"You guys suck, in other words," said Roxas, ignoring the dark look Marluxia shot his way. "Well, it's true."

The Organization's assassin muttered something under his breath (something that sounded a lot like an insult that Roxas was willingly to ignore for the sake of getting the stupid scene over and done with), and then said. "You could help us out this year. Like you so adequately stated, we could use the help."

"I don't know," Roxas shrugged. "I told Larxene that I really need to catch up on the work here. I don't think I'm up to joining anything." He hesitated for a moment, and then added, "What do you know about Axel? The captain of the basketball team?"

Marluxia gave him a long look. "Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity."

"Well, I personally don't hang out with that clique." He waved his hand towards the gaggle (flock?) of cheerleaders practicing their moves a few yards away. "You should ask them." Roxas took one look at the cheerleaders, who looked to be the ultimate type of fangirl, and decided, in fear of his own future mental health, that he would just pass that little scene by.

"Uh…no thanks."

"Here in high school, subcultures are strong. You either fit in one or you don't."

"So this is why you guys hated high school?" He smiled at the taller Organization member. "Exactly what clique were you in?" Again, Marluxia glared and muttered something that was probably an insult under his breath. Roxas simply looked towards the sky, and wondered exactly how much trouble he would get into if he and Axel would blow up the Higher-Ups offices.

It was a very tempting thought indeed.

oOo

Zexion was unpleased.

No, that would have been an understatement. Zexion was as annoyed as he could possibly get while maintaining the fact that he was a Nobody, and…well, you know the spiel.

He had just managed to cut out of the dance rehearsal earlier, completely convinced that it would take a lot more than the Higher-Ups' threats for him to actually dance in the finale. Not only was the song too goody-goody (which set his nerves on end), but the dance moves were a little too energetic, a little too happy, and a little too irritating to make him stay in a relatively good mood.

So, yeah. Zexion was unhappy.

He had managed to find a quiet area of the school to sit and brood (read: start reading _Hamlet_). It was outside, far away from the busy half of the high school set, just on the edges of the grassy area surrounding the school. To make sure no one would find him, he had easily climbed a tree and now sat on one of the thick lower branches, perfectly content with ignoring the shoot schedule for the rest of the day.

Of course, not everyone got the notice that Zexion was to be undisturbed.

Around ten minutes after he had found his peace and quiet, the Organization's Number V (who, if you recall, has been missing since chapter four), approached the tree, and looked up, only to see the smaller Organization member glaring down at him. "What?"

"You do realize that they're wrapping it up for the day," Lexaeus asked, lowering his hood. Unlike the other Nobodies, he had yet to change into his costume – probably because he was the only one who had yet to appear in the movie. "I don't think it's necessary to hide anymore."

"They're not doing that scene with Axel and Xaldin, then?"

"They're finishing that up tonight." The heavily-muscled Organization member shrugged. "I almost feel sorry for them."

Zexion slowly climbed down from the tree, and landed in the grass. "Tomorrow is the auditions, right? That's not going to go over well with anyone. Especially not Larxene or Demyx…" He abruptly trailed off, cupping his chin in his hand. "Oh, dear." Lexaeus gave the shorter man a look as they began to walk back towards the school, but said nothing. It was probably bad news by the way Zexion had ominously trailed off (and when Zexion ominously trails off, you should automatically know that nothing good can come from it).

After a few more silent minutes, Zexion rubbed his left temple. "Have you seen either of them lately?"

Lexaeus shook his head. "Not since earlier today. I passed Demyx on his way to the detention scene. Why?"

"Nothing. Just a sinking feeling I suddenly got."

After another long moment of silence, Lexaeus finally asked, "It's going to be an interesting audition tomorrow, isn't it?"

"That may be the understatement of the year…"

The red-haired Organization member groaned.

"Perfect."

oOo

Hey…whatever happened to Ralph?

The last time the poor, stressed-out Executive-turned-Director Nobody was mentioned, he was currently drowning his sorrows in whiskey.

Hmmm…do you think it's possible for Nobodies to get drunk?

"Naw…" Ralph slurred from some unknown location in the school. "No poshible way…no friggin' way could Nobodies get drunk…ish…ly…" Swoon, faint, collapse…bam.

The narrator guesses that answers that question.

The narrator also supposes that the crew should just let the Director sleep it off…at least until next chapter. Because a Director with a hangover plus four auditioning Organization members is the equivalent of fun.

Or something akin to it.

oOo

**Author's Note** (11 Mar 07): Hi, readers. This chapter officially marks the longest one yet. Eleven pages of _High School Musical_ goodness (relatively speaking).

Of course, some of you are probably wondering where are the auditions I promised in the last chapter? Well, I underestimated the running time of _High School Musical_, and completely forgot about the all the little details before the detention scene, plus that little scene afterwards. So, the auditions won't be until next chapter. The next chapter will probably also have "Stick to the Status Quo".

Hehehe…Zexion gets a solo.

Um, random notes? Am I the only one slightly disturbed by the way Marluxia is the only person who is pretty much getting all of his lines right? And as for the ringtones…Ralph's ringtone is Yoda, and Demyx's ringtone is " Kokomo" by The Beach Boys. I think I'm going to have to give Demyx a new ringtone…though that does give me some interesting ideas for future chapters.

And there's actually a real-life story behind the radioactive Twinkie. Sad, but true.

So, I'm off for draw my KH "Royalty" picture (more details on that later), and I'll be back in one or two weeks with the ninth chapter of **This is Not High School Musical**, because both **Somebody, Somewhere, Someday** and **Please Excuse My French** are both whining for attention.

Oh, and almost gave away the identity of one of the six mysterious people, but I decided giving the first letter of their name would gave been too much of a give away. Keep guessing, and thanks for the reviews the hits and the favorites, once again! I love you guys!

- Nashie


	9. Auditions

_**This is Not High School Musical**_

By Samurai-Nashie

Disclaimer: Um…haven't you been checking out the other eight chapters? Nothing's changed here.

oOo

Revised: 3 April 2007

oOo

Cheerleaders are scary.

No, that's too general of a statement.

High school cheerleaders are scary.

Hmmm…not quite there yet.

High school cheerleaders from clichéd teen movies are the underlings of the devil.

Yeah, that just about fits it.

Now, technically, there is nothing wrong with a normal cheerleader. There's probably a good deal of fun in all that "Ra ra ra!" and "Go, team" school spirit stuff counselors try to stuff down your throat. And hey, as the popular stereotype goes, if you're a cheerleader, you get to date the high school quarterback. Unless, of course, the situation happened to take place in a teen movie. Then, if you are a cheerleader, you will most likely loose said hunky boyfriend to the unconventionally-pretty smart girl with a heart of gold and all that other genuine stuff who brings out the sensitive, poetic side of the former lunkhead boy toy.

Hmmm…that pretty much nailed every popular teen movie right on the head.

Including _High School Musical_.

Somehow, the narrator thinks that Axel and Roxas won't be too happy. Still, it was written in their contracts (it is probably safe to say that if Sora and company don't get to Xemnas first after this lovely little incident, there might be a coup within the Organization to trample said Superior), and they had to play their roles to the fullest. Well, to an extent. Unfortunately for the numerous fangirls out there, neither Axel nor Roxas were method actors.

Not that Ralph knew about any of this, or if he did, even cared. He was currently downing his twelfth cup of Folgers' coffee in Vanilla Hazelnut, no cream, no sugars (bleh). Now if you have come to accept the fact that Nobodies can indeed get drunk, then it should come as no surprise that they also try to find basic ways to get un-drunk (there is actually an interesting story concerning Xaldin, a pink balloon named Skippy, and a jar of organic peanut butter…but that is a story best saved for rainy days in the Witness Protection program).

As Ralph glared murderously at the coffee in front of him, he wondered blankly if it was possible to just deliver a big "SCREW YOU" to the Higher-Ups and disappear off into non-existence. Blowing something up was a lovely option too. Preferably a television – if he had to sit through one more night of watching the rest of the crew cheer on their favorite _American Idol_ contestants, he was going to scream.

There was a knock on the door. Actually, there were two knocks, but since Ralph was suffering from the hangover of the year, he didn't hear it. He almost didn't hear the second knock, except that the second knock was accompanied with someone shouting, "Open the stupid door!"

The door was insulted, and wondered why in the world it had to be brought into the midst of the argument.

Ralph groaned, and managed to drag himself to the door, swinging it open, to reveal a slightly pissed off Axel standing in front it, his arms crossed and a glower in his eyes. "You're late."

Ralph blinked at him once, and then twice, and then three times for the hell of it. "Huh?"

"We've been on set waiting for you for the past twenty minutes," came the annoyed reply. Green eyes flickered dangerously. "Twenty minutes of sitting in a classroom with Saïx and Larxene and three fangirls who are about one step away from being impaled by Roxas' keyblade. Twenty freakin' minutes of thinking of ways to kill the Higher-Ups and castrate Xemnas. Twenty minutes of my non-life gone because you're in here with a _hangover_!"

Ralph glanced blearily at him. "Huh?"

The resulting fireworks were a nice little display, and five minutes later, a frazzled, still-slightly-hungover and now somewhat-crispy director stumbled onto to the classroom set. More than a few eyes turned to him as he managed to collapse in his director's chair, waving off any questions (or in Larxene's case, demands) that were thrown at him. "Sorry…sorry…lets just get started…"

But before the shooting starts, the narrator simply must break in and describe what the unfortunate members of the Organization are wearing today.

Larxene had successfully managed to avoid the pink that the Nobodies in the costume department had tried to put on her. In fact, as she tactfully stated, anybody (er, anyNobody) that tried to put her in pink would be breathing through their own blood for the rest of the day. Through a ventilator. And a body cast. In Argentina. The Costume Designer Nobodies had shared aggrieved looks, consulted amongst themselves for nine seconds, and then gave the female Nobody an orange halter top (with sparkles), a pleated jean skirt (with sparkles), and lace-up wedge sandals that may or may not have once had sparkles on them.

Argentina really is a nice place to visit in the summer.

Demyx had fared a little better, managing to run out of the dressing room in jeans and a dark blue dress shirt before the Costume Designer Nobodies attempted to shove a hat on his head. In his rush, he had forgotten his cell phone (which was now programmed with the ringtone "Since U Been Gone" – the narrator hopes that the musician will figure it out one day).

In other misadventures dealing with costumes, Roxas had burned any form of khaki shorts in his dressing room (Axel had approved this fire-prone side of his friend), and, when the Costume Designer Nobodies gaped at the destruction, Roxas had simply glared and said, "No more khakis." The costume crew had then reluctantly given the blonde a pair of army-green pants and black-and-white-striped t-shirt. Roxas had muttered something under his breath (that sounded painful and anatomically impossibly), but had reluctantly put the outfit on anyway.

Axel had been considering burning the costumes they had given him, but for the sake of originality (since Roxas stole his trademark move), decided to simply not say a word and suffer through whatever the costume crew threw at him. Today it was a pair of dark-wash jeans and a white sweatshirt. Axel decided that as soon as the stupid movie was over, he was going to write a nice, long letter to the Higher-Ups with detailed ideas where they could stick their future plans.

Ralph yawned and then gestured lazily with his right hand, looking around the set for a pot of coffee. "Action."

The school day had begun yet again.

The "students" swarmed into the classroom, still avoiding Saïx's glare as if it were the tenth plague. Zexion had snatched the basketball out of Luxord's hands, and was currently spinning it on one finger, looking completely and utterly bored by the entire filming process. The gambler gave a shrug of indifference, and slid into his desk, pulling out a pack of cards while he did so, beginning a game of Spades. Ralph groaned.

Across the room, Roxas and Axel caught each other's eyes and shared grins.

"Ahem," said Saïx quietly, and somehow, that simple word carried over the student ruckus. Less than a nanosecond later, you probably could have heard a pen drop (or you could have heard the ant shouting obscenities at its cousin who dropped over the edge of the teacher's desk with a parachute attached to its back). The berserker glared at Axel, stopping him from any attempt of pyrotechnics he may have had in his head at the moment. "I hope we all learned our homeroom manners yesterday in regards to cellphones."

There were grumbled responses of "yes".

"Good." The seventh member of the Organization walked back behind his desk and sat down. "A few announcements, then. Today during free period, there will be auditions for the winter musical, for both singles and pairs…"

"Exactly what high school actually has you audition as pairs?" Marluxia asked with a raised eyebrow. Saïx shot him a look, but the assassin ignored him, turning a cool gaze towards Ralph. "I thought that auditions require testing a person's individual vocal strengths, not just –"

"Marluxia?" interrupted Ralph, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Axel and Larxene laughed. A sharp look from their "teacher" silenced them. "As I was saying, auditions will be held in the auditorium until noon." That said, Saïx turned his attention to the book that he had placed on his desk, and settled into ignoring the rest of the class. Behind the cameras, Ralph cleared his throat. He shrank back in his seat when the berserker fixed a calm, golden glare at him, and said, "That's all I have to say."

Ralph sighed. "Oh, fine. Someone find me some coffee."

The crew nearly jammed the doorway trying to make a break for it. Oh, the comedic nuances.

With the short scene already completed, the "students" let out sighs of relief and continued their conversations from before. Luxord went to the back of the room to retrieve his basketball from Zexion (who had stopped twirling the basketball and had settled into reading _Great Expectations_ instead). Larxene grabbed Demyx's shirt sleeve and dragged him out of the room, stopping only to punch Axel in the arm as he jokingly whistled at her short skirt.

"I should probably stop doing that," Axel said with a smirk, rubbing his arm as Roxas came and sat in the seat next to him.

"If you want to live, probably."

"Hey, it's worth it if I get to see Miss Congeniality twirl like a pop princess on stage," came the eager reply. Roxas rolled his eyes as Axel slipped a camera out of his pocket. "There are days when I truly love the Internet."

Roxas frowned. "You know, the use of cameras never really ends well. Remember the last incident?" A dark cloud came over Axel's face (it would have rained, but that would have messed up the redhead's hair). "See what I mean? Unless you're planning on using that for ransom?"

Axel grinned, and shot up from his seat. "That's a great idea, Roxas! If I have blackmail of them, and Demyx still has blackmail on me, he can't use it without embarrassing himself in the process." He smirked as he put his hands on his hips. "Now I remember why I keep you around."

"Friendship has nothing to do with it?" the blonde deadpanned. But the taller Organization member was already halfway out the door, and probably didn't hear what Roxas had to say (once again, much to the disappointment of yaoi fangirls everywhere). The keyblade master sighed, and followed his friend out the door.

oOo

In a place far away and very near (which may or may not be as vague as possible when it comes to description), a phone rang.

Three cheers for the mundane things of life.

Someone answered the phone, and a conversation ensued. Well, for the sake of the plot, the narrator will relate aforementioned conversation with the reader.

"Thanks for calling Wong's Wok. This is Lou, can I help you?"

"Your name is Lou?"

"Yes it is. Can I help you?"

"Your name is Lou and you work at Wong's Wok?"

"Yes I do. Can I help you?"

"…er…I don't know…that kinda threw me off guard…"

"It does for most people. Can I help you?"

"I guess…three orders of shrimp fried rice, one order of moo goo gai pan, one order of…wait, didn't you just eat? Okay, whatever…one order of crab Rangoon, and then two orders of sweet and sour pork. And five…six egg rolls. You're going to get fat."

"Will that be all?"

"Yeah, I think…oh, crap. Um, can I put you on hold for a second?" There was another distinct pause and then, "Hello?"

"…lo?"

"Uh…hello?"

"…wow…worked…genius…turtles…"

"What? Hey, you have a really bad connection!"

"…hear…louder…!"

"I can't hear you!"

"…connection…lousy…phone…coconuts…"

Click. "Hey, sorry about that."

"No problem. So, I got you down for three orders of shrimp fried rice, one order of moo goo gai pan, one order of crab Rangoon, and two orders of sweet and sour pork. Then six egg rolls."

"Yeah. That's about it."

"Will you be paying with cash or credit card?"

"Cash. We'll be picking it up."

"Okay, will do! Have a good one, sir."

"Eh…okay…" The brunette hung up the phone and turned to the rest of his friends, standing along the sidewalk outside of the café they had just exited from. "That was weird."

The youngest in the group sipped her double-shot mocha (which she had somehow managed to convince the guy at the counter to give to her for half-price), and blinked. "The guy named Lou?"

"No…someone called me – they had a really lousy connection…and something about turtles and coconuts…" He then gave a shrug as they headed towards the parking lot, handing the phone back to its proper owner, the young man who had driven them all there. "His voice sounded _really_ familiar, but I couldn't place my finger on it. Hey, and thanks for letting me borrow that. Stupid battery."

The narrator can relate.

The man who berated the group some chapters back rolled his eyes, pulling his keys from his pocket. "Anyone riding with me, or are you all going to try fit back into his car?"

He was nearly run down as the two youngest in the group sprinted towards his car.

oOo

Somewhere else, Sora and company looked blankly at the computer monitor.

"That…didn't go as planned," murmured Riku, glancing at Pence who was stroking his chin thoughtfully. Sora glanced at the monitor, which was now carefully blank so not to annoy anyone else.

"I thought we were trying to call Roxas," whined the keyblade bearer. "That didn't sound like him."

"Who was it?"

"I dunno…it was a really lousy connection"

Kairi sighed. "Maybe we should try again later. After all, it took nearly three hours to actually get this computer working. We probably shouldn't overdo it…"

The computer heartily agreed and shut itself down.

"Is it me or does every machine we come near always shut down?"

The computer harrumphed and back at the Higher-Ups' headquarters, a certain vending machine sneezed out a free Snickers bar.

oOo

Axel wasn't quite sure why Luxord was following him.

He had some idea that it was probably part of the plot of the stupid movie, but it was still getting irritating nonetheless. The gambler had followed him down three flights of stairs, through the locker rooms, past the science lab (where Axel couldn't resist to peak in and blow up a random test tube), and even three times around the basketball field.

So Axel set Luxord's hair on fire a la Michael Jackson's Pepsi commercial.

As the crew rushed to put the flames out on Luxord's clothing, Axel, whistling cheerfully beneath his breath, snuck into the auditorium.

The auditorium was nice, to say the least. In fact, it was more than nice – it looked like a freakin' arena. Because, contrary to popular belief, public schools really do have enough money to install state-of-the-art equipment to make auditoriums look spiffy and modern (honestly, if Disney had done their homework, they would have realized that nowhere in the history of public schools could anyone have a theatre that looked that awesome…stupid Disney).

Most of the auditorium was dark, except for the first few rows, and the stage. Two mikes were set up on stage, as well as an old upright piano. The stage itself was still littered with the random props and flats from detention from the previous filming. Sitting in the front rows of the theatre were the various auditioning students, including Demyx and Larxene.

Axel grinned as he caught sight of Lexaeus. The muscular Organization member also seemed to have been in disagreement over his costume for the musical, and rather than argue over it, he had simply chosen to lock the door to his dressing room and conveniently lose the key. The Costume Crew Nobodies had been a little less than pleased with that, and cornered the tall man and forced him into "high school appropriate" fashion – an orange-and-blue-striped shirt and faded jeans.

_That's almost as bad as Larxene's outfit_, the redhead thought with a smirk as he sank into a plush-not-found-in-any-real-public-high-school-auditorium seat.

"We'll be starting auditions as soon as – "

"_I'm bringing sexy back (yeah!) / Them other boys don't know how to act (yeah)_…!"

Looks like Demyx found his phone.

Saïx glared at the lower-ranking Organization member who fumbled with his cell phone, quickly putting it on silent mode. "As I was saying, we'll be starting the auditions as soon as the crew arrives. It seems as if there was a fire emergency outside."

Axel grinned.

"Courtesy of our resident delinquent."

Axel scowled.

Fourteen minutes, one slightly burned camera guy, and three Pop-Tarts later, the crew finally clamored into the auditorium. Though the sight of the slightly-burned camera guy confirmed that Luxord's hair was no longer on fire, Axel couldn't help but ponder what would happen when the gambler actually got a hold of him.

The tamest of his thoughts involved a machine gun, a gas planet, and butter knife.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the youngest member of the Organization sneak into the auditorium, making sure to stay in the shadows lest any of the cast or crew spot him. Ducking under the seats, he slid into the chair next to Axel's and gave him a pointed look. "You better be so glad Marluxia kept Luxord from coming after you."

"Hey, Roxas, nice to see you too."

"Luxord said something about castrating you with a spork."

Axel went a few shades paler than what was probably considered healthy (for a Nobody, at least), and finally said, "That's…creative."

On stage, Lexaeus settled himself in front of the piano, flexed his fingers, and…began to pound out "Chopsticks". As the crew and cast stared at him in muted horror, Lexaeus paused, and turned his blue glare out towards the crew. "You honestly suspected that I would learn the piano in a week?"

Someone in the crew paled, and fell face first onto the ground.

Saïx frowned. "So we have no music? Then, how exactly, pray tell, are they supposed to audition?" He waved his arm in the general director of the "students", one of whom ducked and whimpered. Yes, getting on the berserker's bad side was listed number eight on the list of "Things Not to Do Under Any Circumstances Even If You Are Super-Desperate or Super-Stupid".

Lexaeus shrugged. "Do what all pop stars do." He waved his hand, and a small radio appeared on the top of the piano. "Lipsync. Or have their voices mixed, read: dubbed, with another singer, making it seem like they're actually the ones singing, but in truth are deceiving the world."

Lexaeus, one. Zac Efron and the Pussycat Dolls, zero.

The blue-haired Organization member crossed his arms and frowned. "Not quite what I was looking for. You don't happen to have the instrumental on there, do you?"

"If you mean the background music, then yes. Yes, I do."

Three minutes later, the auditioning finally, finally, finally started.

And honestly, if you thought _American Idol_ auditions were bad, you haven't heard nothing yet.

For the next forty-seven minutes (Saïx was mentally counting every single one of those horrendous seconds), the auditioners warbled, choked, and hollered their way through a horribly-decimated "What I've Been Looking For". Seriously. It was bad. Almost as bad as being stuck in the bathroom and finding out there's no toilet paper. Or paper towel. And no one at home to go get you anything else except your brother's two friends sitting in the living room.

Larxene frowned. "If this is what you call singing, then that stupid _Little Mermaid_ stint in the game was a freaking masterpiece."

"Fourth wall, Larxene," Demyx murmured distractedly as one of the students got on stage, power-singing her way through the song a la Mariah Carey and Celine Dion. Because hogging every note in the history of musical theatre has always been a good idea ("Defying Gravity", anyone?). The blonde-haired musician winced, and sank into his seat. "Do we really have to go through this? Can't they just edit this in post-production?"

Meanwhile, Saïx was proving himself to a modern-day President Coolidge. After each verse had been sung (and that verb is used very, very loosely), the berserker would scarcely look up from his paper as he said, "Awful. Next."

In the back of the auditorium, Axel and Roxas were at least fortunate enough to be far enough away from the mutilation of the lyrics and melody to avoid future bouts of PTSD. Roxas leaned towards his best friend as a rapper…er…rapped his way through the verses, and whispered, "It's bad enough the lyrics are campy, but this is just _wrong_."

Said rapper threw a gangsta sign at Saïx, and struck a tough pose, crossing his arms. Yup, he was totally keeping it real. Fo' shizzle.

"Please don't," muttered Roxas, tossing a glare towards the fourth wall. "Just don't go there."

Word up, Roxy.

The thirteenth member of the Organization bristled.

Axel hid a grin, sitting back in his chairs and watching the auditions continue on stage. "Saïx is a little…harsh. He could at least pretend that they did a good job."

"Even that would be too much of a stretch for our already limited acting skills," Roxas noted. A slender eyebrow raised. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No – just wondering how Larxene and Demyx are going to do."

Speaking of which…

Saïx glanced down at the audition sheet in front of him. "For the sake of plot, only two names are written under the auditions for leading roles." His gaze darkened as he glanced over at the crew. "Though in a school of nearly one thousand students, I don't quite see how that's possible." The crew shot each other nervous looks, but continued filming anyway. The Organization's Seventh member turned his frowning gaze away from the crew, and sat back in his chair. "Larxene, Demyx – that's your cue."

A predatory smile crept onto Larxene's face as she stood up and made her way to the front of the auditorium, followed by a less than eager Demyx. "Hey, Larxene…do we have to do this?"

"Yes – you have no choice," came the chilly response. The two blondes hurried up the stairs to the stage while the other extras moved as far away from the two as possible – water and lightning certainly do not mix. And Larxene's scarily confident glare was also enough reason to get the heck out of Dodge. Or the auditorium, whichever one was more convenient.

"What key?" Lexaeus asked as Demyx passed him. Demyx blinked.

"Uh…don't you only have two tracks on that CD?"

Lexaeus shrugged. "The script calls for me to ask." Demyx frowned at the absurdity of it, gave another shrug of his shoulders, and then walked over to meet Larxene in the middle of the stage. With a sign from one of the people behind the cameras, the curtains closed dramatically.

Demyx looked towards the ceiling. "I can't believe I'm actually about to do this…"

"Stop whining," Larxene snapped. "If the Higher-Ups want campy and corny and feel-good, we're going to make them _choke_ on it." She gave Lexaeus a frown. "Push play."

The large man sighed, and pushed the button.

The pop number soared through the speakers in the auditorium as the curtains were pulled back to reveal the two Organization members holding their mikes (Larxene, by the way, had refused to bring the sparkly mike with her, and instead shot it into the nearest bathroom she could find), and…smiling? Demyx looked resigned to his fate of humiliation, but Larxene's grin was very…feral.

Oh, that _can't_ be good.

"_It's hard to believe that I couldn't see_," Demyx began to sing, trying his darndest not to blush as Larxene joined him, "_That you were always there beside me / Thought I was alone with no one to hold / But you were always right beside me_."

"_This feeling's like no other_," Larxene sang in a surprisingly sweet soprano, flashing a smile towards the crew, who whimpered in fear. Saïx simply raised an eyebrow, but other than that, his face was completely blank.

The song…well, it continued. And it was campy. Oh, yeah, definitely campy. The synchronized happy dancing made sure of that. Though the looks Larxene kept sending to the crew – well, those were evil, and dangerous, and promised much harm later. But together, the two blondes on stage…somehow, by some twisted law in the universe, whatever they were doing, it _worked_.

And that's probably the scariest thought of all.

"_So lonely before I finally found / What I've been looking for_!" Since Larxene had also refused to tap dance, Demyx simply gave her a nice little twirl (yes, they actually get that twirl down – though Demyx still looked wary by the way he took a step or two away from the nymph as she posed).

In the back of auditorium, Axel and Roxas both sat, dumbfounded. Well, that is, Roxas sat dumbfounded while Axel had doubled over in barely repressed laughter, short snorts of laughter escaping from his mouth.

"My god…" Roxas finally breathed as the little dance interlude took place. "I am _not_ seeing this."

Axel tried to respond, but failed miserably, only bursting into muffled laughter again.

A slow smile began to creep onto Roxas' face. "Larxene is _never_ going to live this down."

"_This feeling's like no other_!" After being given a little helpful kick by his "sister", Demyx finally struck a pose, belting out the line. "_I want you to know_…!"

Lexaeus stared at the little performance with something akin to horror. Or amusement. Or boredom. It was hard to tell – but surprise definitely flittered across his face as the two nailed every single bit of choreography they had learned. The feel-goodness of the entire piece was only slightly ruined by the fact that Larxene's smile was more wicked than wholesome, and growing even more so as the song continued.

"So _lonely before I finally found / What I've been looking for_!" the pair finished with a flurry of nifty little pop moves. "_Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do-do-do, a-woah-oh-oh-oh_…"

And…strike a pose.

Larxene turned a ferocious glare at the crew, who were slowly coming out of their stupefied slash terrified phases, and they begun to clap warily. The other members of the cast, including a still-stunned Lexaeus did the same.

"Well…that was…interesting…" muttered Demyx, finally allowing his blush to appear on his face.

"Please," Larxene said acidly, "Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake have _nothing_ on us."

"Yeah…that's what I was afraid of…" the musician murmured with an embarrassed grin as Saïx rose to his feet, and looked around the auditorium, calling out for any more students to audition – namely Axel and Roxas. Roxas had managed to stop Axel from laughing out loud the minute the performance had ended – if Larxene and Demyx ever found out they were in the theatre, they were good as dead.

Lexaeus walked over to Larxene and gave her a hard look. "What exactly was that?"

"That," the young woman said with an edge in her voice, "was part of the musical."

"You do realize that if you're good, they're going to have to keep on filming?"

Larxene smiled. "'If', Lexaeus? I could tell by all of your faces – you were surprised that we were good. And we're going to continue to be good. Lets just say that this is my way of saying, "screw you" to the Higher-Ups. After all, it wouldn't be a good thing if the underdogs lost, would it?" She grinned viciously. "Understand?"

Lexaeus frowned as comprehension slowly dawned on him. _Oh, this is _not _good._ He was about to say so, but Larxene simply turned on her heel and left, pulling Demyx along with her

"Anyone else?" Saïx asked, though not sounding like he cared very much. When no one responded, he frowned and began to heads towards the door.

Roxas slowly lifted his head over the seat, and looked around the auditorium. Good – Demyx and Larxene were gone. "Um…Saïx…?"

The blue-haired Organization member frowned as Roxas stood up. "What?"

"Can I audition?"

"No," came the brief response. After a moment, Saïx rubbed his temples wearily. "Singles auditions are over. And you have no one to sing with you for pairs."

"I guess I'm singing with him," called Axel as he peered up from over the seats (yes, he took the "roftlmao" thing very seriously).

Saïx raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have basketball practice? I don't need Xaldin coming in here again, telling me about –"

"Uh…no," Axel said, climbing to his feet. "He doesn't know I'm here…uh, we didn't have practice. But I'm here to sing." He jerked his thumb towards Roxas. "With him."

Another moment of silence. "You are aware that the leading roles consist of one male and one female."

Roxas scowled, and glared at the ceiling. Axel scratched his head and shrugged, "Details, details. Besides, it was the Higher-Ups' idea to have us pair up this way. Take it up with them." Saïx frowned at both of them, and looked ready to deny them a chance to audition when a shouting voice interrupted him.

"Hey, Saïx!" Xigbar called, sauntering into the auditorium. "Man, you are so late."

"Late for what?"

"We just got call. Xemnas wants to talk to us."

In case any of the readers have forgotten, Xemnas is the Organization's Superior. It was a lot of chapters ago, and the first member of the Organization has been holed up in the Castle That Never Was, pining over Kingdom Hearts while his comrades suffered through the Higher-Ups' plan. His maiming is planned by around half of the Organization by this point.

"Please tell me he wants to talk to all of us," Axel cut in. "Because this next scene, I could do without."

Xigbar grinned. "Sorry, kid. Just me and Saïx. And Xaldin, if I can ever find out where _he_'s hiding." He shooed the two towards the stage. "I wouldn't dream of interrupting your duet. Now go and have some fun."

"Son of a – "

On stage, Lexaeus conveniently dropped the piano sheets on the floor. "How clumsy of me," he deadpanned, turning to glance in the director of the two younger Nobodies. "Some help?" Roxas and Axel shared collective sighs, and headed towards the stage as Xigbar and Saïx vanished through a dark portal (the narrator is _still_ hoping to get one of those for her birthday).

Axel and Roxas began to help clean up the mess on stage. The redhead glanced down at the bars of music and raised an eyebrow. "You wrote all of this?"

"Yes."

"The entire musical? Including that song Larxene and Demyx just…er…sang?"

"Yes."

Roxas frowned. "Well, technically, he didn't write that version of it…"

Lexaeus sighed, sitting back on the bench of the piano, furrowing his brow in thought. "That was track two – the pop-chart friendly version." He glanced towards the two. "Do you want to hear how it's supposed to sound?"

"You mean, it wasn't supposed to sound like overdosed happiness and sunshine on wheels?"

"Or gangsta rap?"

"I told you – the rapper was good."

"No, Axel. He wasn't."

As the two bickered, Lexaeus rearranged the piano sheets, placing them back on the piano and waving a hand towards the pair. "It's supposed to be a ballad. A duet." Axel and Roxas gave him pointed looks, and Lexaeus managed not to knock both of their heads together in frustration. "Just sing the words." Without any further ado, he pushed the play button.

"Here we go again," Axel muttered, peering over Roxas' shoulder, and reading the words. "_It's hard to believe that I couldn't see / You were always there beside me…_"

"_Thought I was alone with no one to hold / But you were always right beside me_…" continued Roxas, wondering exactly how two people who had very limited singing experience were suddenly supposed to know all about harmony and pitch and ad libbing and all that other wonderful stuff that goes along with…

Though…he hated to admit it…but singing with Axel…it was sort of…fun?

"_This feeling's like no other / I want you to know / That I've never had someone / Who knows me like you do / The way you do_…"

The Cabbage Patch Doll, above in the light loft, watched in silent appreciation as the two Organization members shared abashed smiles.

"_And I've never had someone / As good for me as you / No one like you / So lonely before I finally found / What I've been looking for_…"

It was still campy, but at least this time, it was a nice campy.

oOo

Back in a secret underground place, someone watched a video.

"So I did manage to get it," that someone said with an evil smile. "Demyx was right – it wasn't just playing basketball. Axel, Roxas – you are both in over your heads."

Sigh.

oOo

**Author's Note** (30 March 2007): Demyx is bringing sexy back. Oh, yeah.

Um, not really much to say…the audition took up the most part of the chapter, so "Stick to the Status Quo" won't be until next chapter. So, look for Zexion's solo next time, along with Vexen (he's baaaack) and some dancing Pop-Tarts. And yes, _American Idol_ will probably get bashed more.

And I'm sorry about the long wait for this chapter. Real Life™ is kicking my butt. Plus, since I finally figured out my real-honest-to-life OTP, I've been unsuccessfully sitting on the urge to write the next chapter to **Please Excuse My French**. Oh, well.

And don't you know that one of the Ten Commandments of fanfiction is to review? It's the fourth commandment, right after, "Thou shalt not use fanfiction as a reason why thou hath not done thine homework" and right before, "Honor thy OTPs with a passion."

Hint, hint.

- Nashie


	10. Status

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: Eh…I'm half-reading _Fruits Basket_ and reading fanfiction while writing this…but I still don't own _Kingdom Hearts_ or _High School Musical_. The Higher-Ups and the Director-sama have staked claims on that. Wait…you don't know who Director-sama is…oh, crap…uh, just pretend you didn't read that.

This chapter is dedicated to **Eva Drayon**. Because you rock like the fishies.

oOo

Vexen was not a happy camper.

If the reader can recall, last time we left Vexen (as far as the reader knows), he had just completed his work on the video camera that was so pointedly left on his doorstep. Considering that much as happened since then (as far as the reader knows), the narrator believes that it is high time that we check back in on the fourth member of the Organization.

Said blonde was currently sitting in his lab, glaring at the computer that sat tauntingly in front of him (there are rumors that the computer was in cahoots with the vending machine and computer in Twilight Town, but that little bit of gossip is best left up to the tabloids…if the tabloids can ignore the hijinks of TomKat, Brangelina, and that Hilton girl for at least a week). A glower which was probably practiced in the mirror for maximum annoyance effect crossed the scientist's face as he drummed his fingers next to the keyboard.

The source of Vexen's annoyance was a simple little message that floated happily in the middle of his monitor.

The message read: **Things looking okay for now. The others are handling it (though I think some of them are getting a little _too_ into their roles) – but it's still a pain. A little advice? **

That was it. No signature. No return address. Absolutely nothing to identify who in the high school had sent him that message. And it was pretty darn irritating – almost as irritating as junk mail, or trying to figure out which of your friends is calling you because the stupid caller ID only reports "cellular phone" as the caller.

Stupid caller ID.

Vexen had been trying to figure out who had sent him the message for, oh, the past hour now (technically the last forty-seven minutes, but it sounds so much more dramatic to round the time up to an hour). In doing so, he had missed the impromptu meeting that Xemnas had had with Saïx, Xaldin, and Xigbar. Not that he cared what was happening at the meeting – as far as he knew, Xemnas was still waiting for the project to be over and done with so the traumatized Organization would continue working to achieve Kingdom Hearts.

Well, that was very good and everything, but at the moment, Vexen was ready to tear his hair out.

Now, before the reader is completely baffled as to why Vexen is upset more than he usually is (which is pretty darn upset, considering that canon-wise, the Organization's fourth member is eternally PMSing – "planning, mapping, and scheming" – or something else with the same acronym), one has to look just slightly to the left of the computer. Okay, now look downwards a tad bit, past the cookbooks and the feather duster, past the CD-burning kit, past the needing-to-be-reframed-_Persistence of Memory_…there you go!

Sitting on a little stool near the floor was a single piece of paper that looked strikingly similar to the note that had come along with the video camera. In fact, one might even say that it was the exact same piece of paper.

Probably because it was.

Most things that end badly often begin with a single piece of paper – Watergate, the XYZ affair, the test results to your SATs…

Ah, the narrator is rambling.

Vexen glared at the fourth wall. "Do you mind? I am trying to figure this out."

Well, while Vexen is "trying to figure this out", lets have a look at the little piece of paper, shall we? The paper was curling slightly at the ends, as if it had been rolled up for a long period of time. The handwriting on the paper was written in thick black ink, in large, round letters, and from the slant of the words, looked as if it was written in a hurry.

The message of this paper was altogether different from the computer-happy one:

**To the Organization's Number IV: **

**I hope this reaches you in time! This may seem like an odd request, but I need your help! A good friend of mine and I have found out that the Higher-Ups are plannin' somethin' awful for the Organization. Though I'm not sure where they're headed with this, it's not likely to end well. **

**Please use this camera to keep an eye on your fellow Organization members. They're all pretty darn smart, so I hope that they won't fall easily into the Higher-Ups' trap, whatever it may be. **

There was no signature - just a very recognizable symbol in the shape of a mouse's head.

Hmm…now why does that sound familiar?

**P.S. I sent a message to another member of the Organization, tellin' him to keep a sharp eye on things happening. He should contact you soon! I'll keep you posted as soon as I find out more! **

Yes, Vexen was very irritated. If the mouse king was worried _for_ the Organization, there was no way in Nothingness that this whole _High School Musical_ thing would end in anything other than tears, frustration, and one very pissed-off Superior (Vexen, being the smart guy he is, had already figured out that _High School Musical_ was pure, insane evil coated in feel-goodness and toe-tapping musical extravaganza). Of course, Vexen knew not to tell Xemnas this (he still appreciated his non-existence, thank you very much), and had waited since the very beginning for contact from the nameless mole.

Then when he got it, whoever it was forgot to sign their name. Either that, or they did it on purpose to make sure that the Higher-Ups wouldn't track them down.

So it was back to square one.

Vexen _hated_ square one.

He glanced over at the other occupant which was idly sitting next to the computer, still happily smiling as if nothing was wrong with the world at all. "I bet this makes you happy, doesn't it?"

The only response was the blinking red light from the video camera buried in the Cabbage Patch doll's…er…cabbage.

oOo

The running mood of the day seemed to be "irritated at the world for only one particular reason, which cannot be changed under any known, legal circumstance though an atomic bomb would be the preferred choice of eliminating the problem."

Yup, it was definitely one of _those_ days.

Lexaeus had long since stopped trying to keep track of how many of the Organization members had stomped, sulked, stormed, and stalked past him within the past two hours. Though, if he thought about it, it certainly was amusing to see how many different expressions of emotion that could be displayed across the faces of Nobodies that didn't exactly have feelings to begin with.

It had all started with Zexion, surprisingly. Lexaeus had been heading towards the cafeteria to get ready for the big "Stick to the Status Quo" number (arguably, the only true traditionally musical-theatre number in the entirety of the production…because everything else is a trite pop song, sheesh). He had been just about there when the Organization's Number VI had stormed from an adjoining hallway, a dark glower in blue-gray eyes as he brushed past Lexaeus with barely a civil greeting. A few seconds later, some very hassled members of the crew crept around the corner and cautiously followed the sullen illusionist at a reasonably safe distance, each of them muttering something along the likes of, "I thought _you_ told him he had a solo!" and "No – that was _your_ job!"

That was incident number one.

Incident number two came in guise of a sadistic nymph by the name of Larxene. She had been smugly pleased with her and Demyx's performance the day before, not knowing that Axel and Roxas had ended up auditioning after all. Of course, when she saw that the callback sheet was still posted in the school's atrium, and that her plan had not been as foolproof as she thought…well, the power outage that morning was only a slight hint at the frustration Larxene had been feeling.

The third Organization member on anything except cloud nine had been, not surprisingly, Saïx. Lexaeus guessed that it had something to do with the meeting with Xemnas the other day, but didn't say so out loud – today, Saïx was looking particularly homicidal, and Lexaeus felt a small twinge of non-sympathy for the undeserving person (namely, anyone) who crossed his path.

To test out his theory, Lexaeus had thrown a football in front of Saïx's path, remaining hidden behind a classroom door. Two point five seconds later, the football had been mortally wounded by the berserker's claymore (the football would join the sixty-two basketballs Xaldin destroyed in heaven's gym, where they would reunite in tears and throw together a reunion party that, after six shots of tequila and a leia-decorated limbo bar, half of them wouldn't remember by the morning).

Demyx had been fourth on the list of the unreasonably-upset Nobodies. The Melodious Nocturne had been sitting outside the gym doors, trying in vain to understand his cellphone. Every few seconds, a different ringtone would go off, Demyx would mutter something darkly under his breath, and redouble his efforts to find an efficient way to actually make the camera part of his camera phone work. Lexaeus left him grumbling about "public affairs" and something that Lexaeus could have sworn sounded like "tubthumping".

Luxord, Lexaeus decided, probably had the most reason to be upset that morning. Though Axel had literally set him on fire the other day, the man had escaped reasonably unscathed. Of course, now he was seeking vengeance. Lexaeus did _not_ like the cool glint of revenge that sparkled in the gambler's eyes as he passed him on the way to the cafeteria. Marluxia, who had been following the blonde, looked grudgingly resigned (well, as grudgingly resigned as the assassin could look, while still being awfully pretty and elegant and having those ridiculously annoying sakura petals follow him everywhere) to be playing chaperone.

Lexaeus hadn't seen Xigbar, Roxas, or Axel at all that morning, and assumed that Roxas was keeping Axel as far away from Luxord as humanly…er…Nobody-ly possible. Xigbar, on the other hand, was a complete mystery.

(The narrator would like to mention that Xigbar had currently found out the joys of randomly searching the internet in his office, and had come to the conclusion, that, yes, Wikipedia did indeed know everything humanly possible about everything humanly possible.)

Now, as Lexaeus sat at the table high above the cafeteria, he could only wonder exactly how this could all end happily. He watched, resigned, as Larxene angrily paced back and forth, Demyx watching her like he would a pendulum on a clock (in other words, not at all). His attention was focused on his arch-nemesis: a certain camera phone of unreasonable operating difficulty.

"It should have worked," the blonde young woman seethed. The costume crew had put her in a white camisole and black wide-legged pants, hoping that the lack of pink (or any other nauseatingly bright color) would calm her down. It didn't. "We outperformed them. And the Higher-Ups are out of their minds if they think that they can have two guys cast as the lead for their stupid–"

"They have to follow the script…" Demyx said distractedly. He wrinkled his nose as his phone eagerly chirped the arrival of a text message.

"Does it look like I care about the script!?" the blonde girl snapped, slamming her hand down onto the table. "I am not about to be shown up by that pyro-wielding redheaded weasel! And I'm sure as hell not making this easy for the Higher-Ups."

Demyx gave her a frustrated pout. "Then what are we going to do?"

Larxene frowned, turned on her heel, and looked down at the rest of cafeteria, as the crew pounced on the cue. Well, technically, the lines were completely off (as they had been since the very start of the production), and Larxene looked more "murderous" than "miffed". But, hey, a cue is a cue.

Not that Zexion much cared for cues.

The sixth member of the Organization was sitting with the rest of the jocks at the…uh, jock table, where Luxord was once again collecting his daily dues from the cast. The cheerleaders (who obviously wore nothing _except_ their uniforms to school every day) flittered around them, giggling at stupid-jock jokes and talking about…whatever cheerleaders talk about (namely, nothing of importance).

Ralph, who had been having a strangely good day up until then, wondered if he should have even made the effort to argue with the illusionist. After a few seconds of arguing with his inner Nobody, the director sighed, and hesitantly called, "Zexion? The sooner you do this, the sooner we can leave. And you won't have to sing again."

A glare.

"Uh…please?"

A darker glare.

"For the children?"

The glare melted into something akin to puzzlement and then into that carefully neutral look that perpetually stayed on the gray-haired youth's face. "Fine."

The music started again.

"_You can bet there's nothing but net / When I am in a zone and on a roll_." Zexion absently dribbled a basketball on the top of the table, interrupting Luxord's winning streak. "_But I've got a confession, my own secret obsession / And it's making me lose control_."

Luxord raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

Zexion gave him a decidedly deadpan look, and then sighed. "If Axel wants to be a singer, than I can tell my secret."

"That your weapon's a book?"

"That's old news, Number X."

"Well, what is this horrendously embarrassing secret that you have to tell your peers who will harshly judge you and leave you emotionally scarred for the rest of your high school existence?"

Zexion glared, and Luxord smirked a little bit. "I bake."

Silence.

The jocks and the cheerleaders looked stunned (well, as stunned as they could possibly be, considering that Zexion is the only one out of the entire Organization that stoves and microwaves don't explode around).

"Good for you."

"To the script, please," called Ralph from behind the camera.

"_Not another sound_!" obliged the chorus.

"Someday, I hope to make the perfect crème brule." Zexion wrinkled his nose slightly. "Even though that is possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten…"

This revelation was far too much for his fellow teammates and the (lacking-in-other-clothing) cheerleaders, who expressed their frustration and their horror in synchronized dance moves and singing. "_No, no, no, no (no, no, no!) / Stick to the stuff you know / If you wanna be cool / Follow one simple rule / Don't mess with the quo, no, no / Stick to the status quo!_"

Zexion sighed. "Whatever."

All around the cafeteria, more students burst into revelations of their innermost desires (well, second-to-innermost desires – this is a DCOM after all, and having horny teenagers blurt out their real innermost desires would mostly likely result in lots of legal action by outraged parents who really honestly believe that their teenagers are unsullied by their peer's dirty minds).

"I like to pop and lock and dance and break!" a bookworm exclaimed from a table nearby as her fellow nerds shushed her by threatening to beat her with her history book.

"I play the cello!" admitted a skaterdude from across the way, while one of his friends (who may have spent a little too much time with some little green plants) asked what in the world a cello was.

"_Stick to the status quo_!" shouted (read: sang) their friends.

Larxene and Demyx looked down from their spot high above the freestyle dancing, watching as the cafeteria burst into dance. Suddenly, like magic, the cliques were intermingling and the cellist guy was…playing cello…where in the world had the stupid cello come from? Larxene was beginning to look more and more irritated as the dancing became more erratic. "_This is not what I want / This is not what I planned / And I just gotta say / I do not understand_ / _Something is really_–"

Demyx, briefly enraptured with one of the students breakdancing on one of the cafeteria tables, gave Larxene a slightly suspicious look, "_Something's not right_…"

They shared looks. "_And we've gotta get things back where they belong / We can do it_!"

"Gotta play!" the cellist exclaimed. His friends hit him with a skateboard ("_Stick to what you know_!")

"_We can do it_!"

"Hip-hop hooray!" the nerdy girl enthused (. Her friends hit her with _The History of Western Civilization_, Seventh Edition. ("_She has gotta go_!" – and the narrator agrees, for shouting something as corny as that).

"Crème brule," Zexion shrugged, and then glared at whoever would even think about hitting him with something. The jocks and cheerleaders backed off.

"_Not another peep (no) / Not another word (no) / Not another sound (no)_…"

"Everybody, _shut up_!"

Two power outages in one day was definitely a record the Organization's twelfth member.

Larxene glared down to where Roxas and Marluxia had entered the room, her temper (or whatever non-emotion was the equivalent of that) flaring.

Roxas stopped dead in his tracks as he met the nymph's scowl. "Oh, crap…should I even ask?"

Marluxia gave the shorter young man a look. "I don't believe Larxene is acting."

"Uh…can we knock it off with the stares?"

"Considering the fact that you auditioned for a musical, I would probably say that there is going to be more staring."

A groan. "Thanks a lot."

Once again, the cafeteria burst into song and dance (so suddenly, that Roxas nearly dropped his lunch and pulled out his dual keyblades – this was way too sporadic, even for a musical). "_No, no, no, no (no, no, no) / Stick to the stuff you know / It is better by far / To have things as they are / Don't mess with the quo, no, no / Stick to the status quo_!"

"I remember now why I hated high school," Marluxia murmured, his brows furrowed in annoyance as he and Roxas maneuvered their way through the gyrating, breakdancing, hip-hopping students.

Roxas would have replied, but the nerdy girl, who was intent on showing her classmates her awesome moves, booty-bumped Roxas right into Larxene, who had stormed down the stairs so she could decapitate Roxas with his own keyblades. Roxas let out a cry of surprise as his lunch tray (filled with something that may have been the Nobody…er No-thing of spaghetti or, perhaps, chili) somehow found its way right onto Larxene's nice white camisole.

Three power outages in one day were definitely going in the record books.

Roxas took one look at the stunned rage that began to creep onto Larxene's face, and briefly wondered if there was an afterlife for Nobodies (according to many AkuRoku fans who are still caught up on a single line in the game, there was). Thanks to Marluxia, however, Roxas would live to see another day, as the assassin quickly created a dark portal and shoved the blonde into it, following after him quickly.

Demyx, who had run down the stairs after Larxene, took one look at the mess on the other blonde's shirt, and haphazardly asked, "Uh…Larxene…?"

CrrrackSNAP!!!

"Yaaaah!!!"

Demyx, the narrator would like to remind you, for future references, water conducts electricity.

"…ow…"

oOo

While Demyx contemplated basic science trivia, King Mickey was wondering exactly how in the world he had gotten himself into this crazy predicament.

It had started off fine. The Higher-Ups had been having good ideas lately in regards to promotion and boosting their image – it had been a good year after all. But then, one thing led to another. And that thing led to another. And _that_ thing led to something that resembled a Twizzler, but due to some strange helicopter accident, now more of less resembled a ninja turtle (the narrator is partial to Leonardo herself).

The mouse king was sitting on the edge of a wall, waiting for his friend to meet him. He had found all the documents he could, but things weren't looking up. In fact, what he found was probably the worst news since _American Idol_ returned for yet another season.

He didn't have long to wait this time, though. Within a few minutes, he heard someone approach him from behind. "Hello, Your Majesty," a male voice called in a slightly-accented voice.

"Gosh, you don't have to call me that," King Mickey said as he jumped from the wall. "We're friends, remember?" His brow furrowed. "Did ya find any information about the Higher-Up's plan?"

"Nothing more than usual," the man said. "They're covering their tracks. It appears to be a perfectly innocent promotional project for the Organization."

King Mickey nodded. "I was afraid of that." He craned his neck to look up into the honest, dark eyes of the man standing in front of him. "Well, what are we going to do?"

"Perhaps…getting in touch with those three might help. I wouldn't put anything past them, and they'll probably be willing to help." A slight smile appeared on his face. "Riku might protest a bit."

The king clucked his tongue at this friend. "Now, whose fault is that?"

The man chuckled.

"I thought the 'angst' sign was a nice touch…"

oOo

Axel was _not_ hiding.

No, hiding was for cowards, and Axel was definitely not a coward. He just very much enjoyed the thought of not being dead. Well, not particularly enjoyed, because being a Nobody wasn't much fun and if he did like it, then the whole completing Kingdom Hearts things was kind of stupid and pointless…anyway…

He definitely did _not_ like the thought of being castrated with a spork.

So Roxas, being the genius little Nobody he was, had placed him up in the school's greenhouse with strict directions ("Stay here until I get back – and don't give me that grin!"), and then run off to complete his scene. The blonde had returned ten minutes later, looking quite cross. And since Roxas looking cross included his pout, yes, fangirls, it was a very adorable look.

Whether or not Axel thought it was adorable is best left up to the reader's imagination (you know who you are).

"So, how'd it go?"

Roxas punched him in the arm.

"That good, huh?" the redhead grinned, rubbing his arm slightly. Roxas glared at him, stomping over to the bench on the far side of the open greenhouse, tugging the sleeves of his sweatshirt down.

"Larxene is _not_ happy."

"Kind of figured she wouldn't be," Axel shrugged, sitting down next to Roxas. "Because now it's a real competition, whether it's in the script or not."

"This sucks."

"I agree."

The two sat quietly for the next few minutes, contemplating the next few days of shooting (and yes, all they were doing was contemplating – this is not one of _those_ fics. It's still a DCOM, after all…sort of…kind of…a little bit). Roxas took to poking one of the plants that had decided that growing _downwards_ was a nifty idea, and had wrapped itself around the arm of the bench.

"Your solo is coming up."

"Shut up, Axel."

The eighth member of the Organization smirked. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, just to let you know."

"Shut _up_, Axel."

"As the best friend, I am automatically in the position to serve as cheerleader and tormentor. Besides, I still have that camera…"

At the mention of the camera, Roxas went very silent. After a moment, he quietly asked. "Zexion deleted those pictures?"

Axel snorted. "If he knows what's good for him…"

"…"

"Though, I do think revenge is in order." A small fireball ignited in the palm of the fire-wielder's hand, twirling up and over their heads. "I was being pretty nice with the whole karaoke singer thing…"

"If that was nice, then Demyx will be dead when you actually get serious…"

"Serves him right for taking those pictures…"

Roxas sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Can we just get through this without killing each other? That would be nice…"

"Singing with you is nice," Axel said with a wink. "Embarrassing as all hell with those stupid lyrics, but at least it's fun." He made a face. "In a way. I guess all that good believe-in-yourself stuff is rubbing off." Roxas rolled his eyes, and punched his friend again, in the same place as before. The narrator believes that Roxas is one of those people who just naturally has a mean left hook.

Axel knew this, and rubbed his arm again. "Ow. So, what – you don't like singing with me?"

"It's stupid."

"Yeah."

"And the lyrics are campy."

"Yeah."

"And…" Roxas trailed off. "It _is_ stupid."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "You're starting to sound like Sora." He put his hands behind his head and looked up towards the sky. "But if you start singing that 'finny fun' song, I'm going to have to hurt you – ouch!"

Roxas smirked. Yup, a definite mean left hook.

oOo

In the haunted mansion, our three heroes, Naminé, and the three Twilight Town kids, were playing Scrabble. Why were they playing Scrabble? Because after realizing that the game of Life was pointless, that the game of Monopoly was endless, and that Chutes and Ladders was brainless, the only thing left that was fair to everybody was Scrabble.

Though Sora was pretty sure that Kairi and Naminé were cheating.

The two girls had teamed up (more or less being the same person), and were currently winning hands down. They would whisper to each other in the middle of the game, smiling at their competition and then creating a word that none of them had heard of before, until Naminé insisted that it _was_ a word (and since no one could dare ever tell Naminé that she was wrong, the two girls would often get the points).

Sora looked down at his rack of letters. The Scrabble gods obviously didn't like him, because last time he checked, it was not possible to create a word out of the letters Y X V G M M, and R. Nope, impossible. Stupid Scrabble gods. He saved the world(s) countless of times, and they couldn't even give him something as simple as a vowel?

The keyblade master was interrupted in his dark thoughts (and this was about as dark as Sora's thoughts got, sad to say) by the whirring noise of the computer. Pence glanced over as the screen lit up suddenly. "Hey, I think the computer woke up…"

The computer didn't really have a say in the matter.

The group of seven rushed over to the console, the game of Scrabble forgotten. Pence sat in the chair, poising his hands over the keyboard. "So are we going to try to reach Roxas again?"

"Yup!" Sora enthused, grinning. "I think my Nobody had suffered enough."

Naminé blushed.

But before Pence could type in anything, a cheerful box popped exclaiming, "You have an instant message!" in that fake enthusiastic voice, as if the computer actually gave a rat's rear whether you had instant messages or friends online or not. In fact, the computer was currently contemplating the meaning of its life, and wasn't very much liking the answers it was getting. Yes, computers do indeed have midlife crisis – it just sucks that they usually have them while you're in the midst of writing a term paper for your finals.

Pence pulled up the folder. "You guys know someone named Mickey?"

"_King_ Mickey?" Sora blinked. "How in the world did he know where we were at?"

Pence shrugged – that type of technology in the world of literature completely went over his head – and pulled up a window, which had a video screen attached to it. "Hey, it's in real time. Is that him?"

"Your Majesty!" Kairi giggled, waving at the mouse king, who waved back from Computer Land. "How did you know to contact us here?"

"Well, gosh, I tried to contact you all on your islands, but no one responded!" the king chided. Riku snorted.

"That's because someone here is on the run from the narrator," the silver-haired young man said, casting a look over at his best friend, who gave an embarrassed blush, scratching the back of his neck and letting out an uneasy chuckle.

Mickey blinked at the group, but then shook his head in amusement. "Well, I'd ask, but I'm in a bit of a hurry." He turned his gaze towards Naminé. "You managed to get out of there in time, Naminé. That's good! I'm happy for you." The blonde girl smiled, ducking her head a little bit. Then, the mouse king's eyes grew dark in seriousness. "Unfortunately, I wish that I had good news for you all. But some trouble's brewin'."

"What kind of trouble?" Olette asked, leaning forward, sharing a look with Hayner, whose curiosity was also piqued.

"The Organization is in trouble – we're going to need your help."

"Wait…how are they trouble?" Sora asked. "The musical thing might be a little much, but I don't see how–"

"The Higher-Ups are planning on taking over the Organization."

"Oh."

Oh, indeed.

Mickey sighed. "A friend of mine and I have been trying to stop them, but it looks like we might need more help than that. We need to get in touch with…a certain group of people, and the only way we can do that is through you guys."

There was a moment of silence.

Kairi frowned. "By a certain group of people, you don't mean…?"

Mickey nodded gravely. "Yup, I sure do."

There was yet another moment of silence.

"Well…the fourth wall has officially been decimated," Riku finally said, running his hand through his hair.

"We are SO getting sued after this."

oOo

**Author's Note** (10 April 2007): The new KH:FM+ cutscenes make me happy (though the one where Axel and Roxas talk for the last time makes me cry like a baby – I was such a fangirl as I sat through that one).

Eh, not much to say for this chapter, but I do want to give you guys a heads-up: All of the chapters prior to this have been revised and tweaked (thanks to the suggestion of a certain reviewer), especially regarding information with the mysterious six people. You might want to check it out!

I like reviews because they make me very happy and goofy and make me want to do a little jig of happiness (and it would be awesome if there actually were Ten Commandments of Fanfiction…I might have to address that in my author's notes for next chapter – as soon as I can think of seven more!).

There probably won't be a chapter this weekend because I'm in my Titanic-remembrance week up until Sunday – this year marks the 95th anniversary since the sinking. Plus, I'm trying to destroy the plot bunnies that demand I write another KH fanfiction. Sure, plotbunnies, as soon as I get the three I'm working on under control.

Reviews and discounted Easter candy (especially peanut butter eggs!) are greatly appreciated!

- Nashie


	11. Good

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: (holds up a sign that says "Please don't eat me"). Oh…wait…that's not it…(holds up a sign that says "I don't own Kingdom Hearts – so please don't eat me). There we go – that's much better.

oOo

Xaldin was almost convinced that karma had been sold on eBay for some ridiculously cheap amount and was no longer a working force in the universe.

Because if it were, half the things that were happening would not be happening, and the Higher-Ups would have been tarred and feathered (and preferably mutilated past recognition if he had his way), and the Organization would have been free from this musical hellhole.

But, no. Here they were (again) on another day of un-uneventful shooting (again) waiting for the Director (again) to show up from wherever he disappeared to between takes (again). The locker room was filled with male extras in various states of undress (the fangirls and the female cast members had been shoved to the very, _very_ far end of the high school, just in case some random member of the Organization happened to walk in), and Xaldin was eating a sandwich. It was peanut butter and banana, once again proving that the Organization is made up of a bunch of very, very strange individuals.

The third member of the Organization was trying very hard not to destroy the crew in a magnificent (and showy) display of his fighting prowess (namely, making a Nobody Crew shish kabob). Violet eyes peered over the edge of his sandwich, and glared menacingly at the crew who were suddenly beginning to wish that life were a whole lot simpler.

Sorry, guys.

"Where is he?" someone quietly asked from around the corner. The crew began to murmur to themselves, and in turn, not answering the person's question. There was an audible scowl (don't ask), and then Saïx rounded the corner, and entered Xaldin's office, glaring darkly at him. Xaldin frowned.

"What do you want, Number Seven?"

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on your…team?" the blue-haired berserker asked, golden eyes narrowing. "Larxene just caused a power outage in the cafeteria two times because Axel decided to audition with Roxas."

"I don't control that," Xaldin retorted, returning back to bite into his sandwich (way too much peanut butter, in his opinion). "If you have a problem with it, why don't you take it up with the director?" He nodded casually over to where Ralph was sitting in the director's chair, a bright red baseball cap pulled low over his eyes so it would appear as if he weren't sleeping (it wasn't working).

Saïx didn't look a bit too pleased at this nonchalant response to his gripe. Xaldin realized this, but, being Xaldin, he just really didn't care. After a few moments of tense silence, the lancer looked back up at the seventh member of the Organization and silently raised an eyebrow. "You're still here?"

"Since Xigbar has seem to gone missing – "

("Woah…I totally didn't Mark Paul Gosselaar was born in the Netherlands!" exclaimed Xigbar from his office, where he was still exploring the wonders of Wikipedia).

" – you're the only one here with a high enough ranking to tell the others to stop with their antics," Saïx continued, unfazed by the random interruption. Xaldin snorted.

"Why don't you do it?"

Now, while it's not very hard to get on Saïx's bad side (hell, all of his sides were his bad side), it's usually very hard to get him flustered about something. Like, near impossible. Almost as impossible as doing a handstand and juggling five bowling pins with your feet while avoiding _American Idol_ like the plague.. Yeah – it was _that_ tough.

So, imagine Xaldin's surprise when Saïx angrily huffed, spun on his heel, and headed towards the door, calling out behind his shoulder, "_I_ have something important to work on." Xaldin rolled his eyes, returning to his sandwich, not even flinching as the locker room door slammed shut behind the retreating golden-eyed Nobody. The crew all shared dubious looks before silently beginning to head towards the door, and in search of some much needed coffee.

Now left alone to finish his sandwich, Xaldin frowned thoughtfully and drummed his fingers on the table. Not that he should care if Axel and Roxas actually decided to go along with the script (especially considering the fact that Larxene was attempting to sabotage it, if Lexaeus was telling the truth), but still…why in the world would they actually _want_ to go along with it?

He took a big bite out of his sandwich (making a face as he received a mouthful of banana), and then rose to his feet. Technically, he shouldn't care…after all, it was just a stupid musical that the Higher-Ups were forcing them to do. _But_…he was getting a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he was not exactly pleased about. In fact, one might say that he was a little annoyed and suspicious about the fact that Axel and Roxas were continuing with the auditions.

Throwing the rest of the sandwich back onto the paper plate (having left only the crust because hey, just because the Organization comes from the deepest, darkest realms of nothingness doesn't mean that they actually have to eat bread crusts on their sandwiches), Xaldin left the office.

No sooner had he taken three steps out did a shouting, laughing extra run past him. "Think fast, coach!" the extra shouted (the narrator is going to assume that the extra was either stoned, drunk, or suicidal – because no one throws random object at a member of the Organization if they're in their right mind).

Xaldin just barely managed to catch the basketball before it hit him square in the nose. The extra ran off, still shouting and laughing about something called "Red Bull" (that _would_ explain it, it seems).

Surprisingly, instead of destroying the basketball in a fantastic display of fireworks and bon-bons, the third member of the Organization only glared at the orange ball in his hands before continuing out towards the gym. Saïx wasn't the only one with work to do – he had a team to whip into shape.

Before the door to the locker rooms closed behind it, the faint sound of a dribble could be heard starting up.

oOo

After the events in the cafeteria, Larxene had stormed back into her dressing room, muttering darkly the entire way. There was _no_ possible way that she was going to get upstaged by Roxas and Axel – she had not suffered through these past few days of wearing pink and singing and dancing with Demyx only for it to all fall through. And she was definitely not going to give the Higher-Ups a chance to smirk and point and pat themselves on the back for a job well done.

She was about to slam the door behind her when a quiet voice simply advised, "Three power outages, Larxene?" The blonde young woman spun to give the sixth member of the Organization a glower that had been honed to perfection forty-three fanfictions ago. Zexion only returned the look with a simple bored gaze. "Well?"

"It's none of your business," she snapped irritably, looking in the mirror with a disgusted look at her ruined white camisole. Spaghetti stains. Bleh.

"Considering the fact that you put us two hours behind schedule…"

"So, you just want me to smile through this?" came the sharp answer, and the light bulbs in the room flickered dangerously. "I'd rather shove a sword down my throat and stick matches in my eyes."

"I would think that would be uncomfortable," Zexion deadpanned.

"Get out," the blonde seethed, turning to look through her rack of costumes for something decent (in other words, not covered in sparkles, twinkles, or sprinkles…hmmm…sprinkles…) to wear. Zexion gave a brief shrug of his shoulder before turning and closing the door behind him, quietly murmuring something about prima donnas under his breath as he left.

One of the light bulbs exploded.

A few moments after that, Ralph's voice blared from the loudspeaker – y'know, they have one of those in every school across the world that report what school team lost what game, what's to eat for lunch, and the true meaning behind the elasticity of green Jell-O (hmmmm…Jell-O). Well, maybe not the Jell-O bit, but hey, wouldn't everyone like to find out the mystery behind green Jell-O (like why it's the only food other than pudding that people really don't seem to care that it bounces almost as much as certain anatomical parts of certain female lifeguards off a certain show)?

Anyway…the loudspeaker announcement: "Um…hey…is this thing on…oh…okay…um, hey, everyone. This is Ralph, the, uh, director. Just want to let you know that the Higher-Ups are pretty…uh…pleased with the fact that nothing's really exploded since we started shooting…you guys should commend yourselves."

"Screw that," Larxene muttered, holding up a black polo shirt, and frowning in approval. She wasn't quite sure how it into her dressing room (because it was not BRIGHT or PASTEL or SPARKLY!!1!!1), but she wasn't complaining.

"So, lets just finish up for today, and we'll be good, okay? Um…yeah." The loudspeaker abruptly turned off, leaving an ominous silence in its wake. Larxene turned an even glare towards the loudspeaker, and very slowly, a grin melted across her face. Yes, it was one of those Cheshire cat grins. Or the grin of a madwoman. Or the grin of Certain Doom™ (which will come with unHappy Meals for a limited time).

Placing the black polo shirt back on the rack, she grabbed a pale blue tank top with only a few sparkles on it and headed towards the connecting bathroom to her dressing room, humming "What I've Been Looking For" with a strangely cheerful air.

oOo

In Twilight Town, the air was anything but cheerful.

After having been told by King Mickey that they were supposed to save the Organization from Certain Doom™, our heroes weren't exactly jumping around with happiness and glee and joy. After all, they had just been told to save the very people that they went through fifty-plus hours (more if you actually tried to do the impossible and actually _complete_ Jiminy's freakin' journal…stupid Sephiroth and stupid Ultimate Weapon) to defeat.

Plus, the idea of what would happen if they failed did little to cheer them up – they definitely did _not_ want to see the Organization brought down by someone as scary as the Higher-Ups.

So, yeah, the air was anything but cheerful. A little humid maybe, but definitely not cheerful.

"So, exactly how are we supposed to stop the Higher-Ups?" Sora asked plaintively. "Blow up their headquarters?"

"Haven't you watched any horror movies recently?" retorted Hayner with a frown. "Something _always_ survives."

"Isn't that the tagline for _Jurassic Park_?" Pence wondered aloud.

"Hey, that's a great idea! We could let dinosaurs loose on 'em!"

A brief moment of silence.

"Exactly where are we supposed to find dinosaurs?"

"There has to be some world out there that has _Jurassic_ _Park_ as its theme…"

"Sora, do you _really_ want to face down a twenty-five foot Tyrannosaurus Rex that could swallow you whole, a pack of fast and clever Velociraptors, and a very, very big Brachiosaurus with very, very big feet?"

Sora was silent for a moment, considering this. "Well, if that doesn't work, we can always stick the Higher-Ups with Leon and Cloud. They'll die from their emo-ness."

Another, longer moment of silence.

After this moment had passed (and Sora still didn't seem to quite grasp that his _Jurassic Park_ idea was something just slightly less than ludicrous), Riku finally said, "You know, that may not be a bad idea."

Kairi smiled slightly. "Which part?"

Riku leaned against the wall where the computer was stationed. "Well…see, it's been bugging me - what the King said. He said that the Higher-Ups are trying to take over the Organization. But it didn't make any sense the way they're doing it."

Naminé nodded thoughtfully. "You're right – Ralph said that it was a promotional project. The most this musical would do is irritate most of those in the Organization. If anything, they'll be more likely to destroy the Higher-Ups than attempt to complete Kingdom Hearts."

"Right. But what if they weren't trying to just take over the Organization? What if they wanted to eliminate them completely?"

"Well, that would suck," muttered Sora. "I wouldn't have any enemies worth beating in the second game."

"Third game."

"Whatever."

"Does _Chain of Memories_ even count as the second game?" Olette mused. "Wouldn't it technically be like the game in-between?"

"Details, details," Sora waved his hand. "Besides, it's not like half of the fans even played that one. Or at least finished it." He glared at Riku. "Your doppelganger was way too hard to beat."

(Somewhere in a forgotten part of the _Kingdom Hearts_ universe, Repliku sneezed.)

Riku made a face at his best friend. "Sora, you shouldn't even technically remember that game. You slept in an egg for a year." Naminé blushed at that. "Besides, even if you didn't have the Organization, you could still have to try to beat Maleficent and Pete."

"There wouldn't be much trying in that…" Sora mumbled.

"Boys," Kairi interrupted with a polite smile on her face, "Back to the topic, please?" Her two friends shared abashed looks and apologized (they learned long, long ago never to piss Kairi off – one infamous incident some time back resulted in three papou-shaped lumps on Sora's head and a very annoyed, though somewhat amused, fish down Riku's pants). Kairi winked. "That's better. Now, Riku, why in the world would the Higher-Ups want to eliminate the Organization? Let alone take over it?"

Riku sighed. "Because of the fans."

Dead silence. "Come again?" Pence asked.

"The minute the third – "

"Second," interrupted Sora. Riku glared at him, and the brown-haired boy grinned. "Sorry, sorry."

"Anyway, the minute the sequel_s _(happy now, Sora?) came out, the Organization was suddenly very, very popular. And that probably annoyed the Higher-Ups more than anything. They had more power in the first game, and they don't like sharing. I mean – these are the _Higher-Ups_ we're talking about." Riku gave a brief shrug of his shoulder. "So, I guess it's sort of like revenge."

Sora sighed, resting his elbows on knees and holding his chin on his fists. "Well, thanks for the exposition, but, um…that still hasn't answered the question."

Naminé cleared her throat, and then quietly said, "I think…I think the Higher-Ups are planning to corrupt the Organization."

The moments of silence were probably going to start demanding an hourly wage after the numerous times they had already appeared in this conversation.

"How?" Hayner asked, looking altogether bored with the entire discussion (because resident bad-boys must always, always look bored or smug with everything they do, because that is the first rule in the "How to Be the Resident Bad Boy" handbook, which comes right before the rule that states that the resident bad boy must either be the best friend or rival or boyfriend or, more often than not, all three to the hero).

Moving on…

Riku and Naminé shared looks and let out a shared sigh.

"They're going to try to Disney-fy them."

oOo

"_Don't push me cuz I am close to the edge / I'm tryin' not to lose my head_…!"

"Another ringtone, Demyx?"

The blonde-haired musician looked up, and saw the fifth member of the Organization raising an eyebrow at him. He also noticed a stack of music sheets tucked underneath the Silent Hero's arm. He blinked. "Where are you headed to, Lex?"

The taller man frowned. "Rehearsal."

"I thought you didn't know how to play piano."

Lexaeus shrugged. "And Leonardo DiCaprio can't draw and Jennifer Beals can't dance. The point is, I just have to _look_ as if I know what I'm doing."

"Ooookay…" Demyx watched at the muscular Nobody continued his walk down the hallway. After a few more moments of searching for ringtones (and not quite finding what he was looking for), the musician sighed in annoyance, stuffed his cell phone into his pocket, and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. Well, even if he hadn't found a ringtone yet, at least Larxene hadn't come chasing him down, asking about their own rehearsals…

Speaking of which, he just could _not_ get that "Bop to the Top" song out of his head. No matter how hard he tried, he would always end up humming it or dancing to some random portion of it in the middle of the hallway. Not that the dance moves weren't…interesting, but the lyrics, oh gods, the lyrics…

He was so caught up in contemplating the silly lyrics of his callback song with Larxene that he almost ran smack into Axel. The redhead fortunately sidestepped him at the last minute, so that Demyx only ended up brushing his shoulder. Shaking his head to clear out the terrible lyrics ("_Shake some booty and turn around_…!"), the Melodious Nocturne offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Axel."

"Man, your head is so in the clouds," the fire-wielding Nobody smirked, twirling the basketball he was holding on his index finger. "Headed off to rehearsal? I think your sister was looking for you." Demyx made a face, showing exactly how excited he was for that prospect. Axel only laughed at him. "Sorry to break it to you. Hey, if you see Roxas, tell him I'm looking for him. I'll be in the gym." He sighed. "Xaldin's making me put in extra time for practice. That bastard."

With a slightly tame version of his usual rakish grin, the taller youth spun on his heel and continue to walk down the hallway, singing beneath his breath so Demyx could only vaguely hear, "_We're soarin', flyin' / There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach_…"

Demyx sighed. Larxene was _not_ going to be happy.

He headed down a flight of the stairs to the school's front atrium, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he might find Zexion lurking in some dark corner of a random hallway.

To his surprise, he found, not the ever-reclusive and uber-emo schemer, but the slightly obsessive assassin with a penchant for things pink and flowery. The eleventh member of the Organization was sitting on the stairs leading down into the main lobby, some of the other "bookworms" sitting around him. The older man caught his eye, and called out, "Demyx! Have you seen Roxas?"

"Not since the cafeteria scene. Why?"

The pink-haired man shook his head (elegantly, of course). "I was just curious. We haven't seen him in awhile. He missed one of the meetings." He gave a shrug of one of his shoulders before rising to his feet. "Perhaps he's in the library…" With that, he quietly walked off, following a handful of the honor roll students that had been sitting with him.

Demyx watched them go and pouted furiously up towards the glass ceiling (which, as you recall, belongs in no high school except those seen on television…silly television). "Am I the only one here still sane?"

"Demyx!"

That probably answered his question.

The musician blinked and turned to look up towards the balcony, and saw a very familiar pair of teal eyes glaring down at him. "Hey, Larxene!"

The girl frowned at him, and then marched down the stairs. She decided to ignore the raised eyebrow that Demyx gave to her outfit (even a little bit of sparkles put on willingly was saying a lot). "Listen, have you seen Axel or Roxas?"

"I just saw Axel upstairs and Marluxia was looking for Roxas."

"Really?" the nymph asked, her brows lowering. "Well, then. I guess I'll have to find them some other time." She then stuck her finger in his face, glowering. "We, on the other hand, have to practice _now_. Okay?"

"Um…sure…"

The young woman's countenance abruptly flipped, and she smiled sweetly at her "brother". "Good."

Demyx was beginning to wonder if the definition of "good" had recently been changed in Webster's dictionary…

oOo

"Good – adjective. First definition, to be morally excellent; virtuous; righteous; pious. Second definition, satisfactory in quality, quantity, or degree. Third definition…"

"Must you _always_ do that?"

Noah Webster huffed. "Well, excuse _me_ for being a man of higher learning!" With that, he threw down his golf club and stormed off, puffy white clouds swirling around his feet.

"I swear, a man creates the country's most used dictionary, and suddenly he thinks he's somebody," George Washington muttered, leaning on his own club and shaking his head. Humphrey Bogart shrugged.

"Well…what can you do?" he asked, rearing up for a full golf swing. "Fore!"

oOo

Far away from the golf game in heaven, Axel had run into the gym…only to find that the rest of his teammates were beginning to leave. He blinked. Okay, so maybe he had misjudged the timing? Even the crew in the far corner of the gym looked a little peeved at him. He sighed, holding his basketball at his hip as Xaldin turned to glare at him. Okay, definitely not all right. "What?"

"Where were you?"

Axel rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "Obviously not here. Got it memorized?"

"Were you planning on practicing today at all?"

"I'm here now. Though I really doubt that college scouts really want a Nobody as part of their team…"

Xaldin scowled. "Practice. Now." And not even waiting to see if his "son" would actually start, the third member of the Organization summoned a dark portal and disappeared through it (causing the editing guy in the crew to burst into tears yet again – why oh why must the Organization make his life so _incredibly_ difficult!?).

Axel sighed, turning to frown at the other members of the crew. "Well?"

Silence.

"What, no comment from the ever-so-wise director?"

"He had to take a phone call!" someone shouted from behind the camera.

"Oh, great. Then lets just wait for him to get back."

"No, we're good!"

Axel made a face, muttering under his breath. "I wonder if the definition of good has recently changed in Webster's dictionary."

(Unbeknownst to Axel, this statement caused yet another argument in heaven, as Noah Webster began his definition recital and Sandra Dee threw a pillow at him as Tchaikovsky cheered her on).

At that moment, one of the connecting doors to the gym opened, and the youngest member of the Organization walked in, hands stuffed in his pockets (he had somehow lucked out in the costume department, who had hurriedly given him a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt before shoving him in the general direction of the gym). The blonde gave Axel a long, hard look. "Practice?"

"Xaldin demands it."

"Well, technically, he is your coach. And your dad."

Axel rolled his eyes, shooting a basket. "Uh-huh." As he went to retrieve the ball, he raised an eyebrow at his best friend. "And what brings you to this corner of the high school? I thoughts you were planning on avoiding the script."

Roxas shrugged. "You said singing with me was fun." He paused. "And even if it's a campy…I don't know, maybe it is fun. Though…" he scrunched up his nose, "doing this in front of the cameras – that isn't fun." Axel rolled his eyes and passed the ball to Roxas, who managed to catch it, and then look at it as if it were the fourth Indiana Jones movie – with something akin to skepticism.

"Don't tell me you don't know how to play."

"I never learned. You became the captain of the basketball team before I could." Axel grinned.

"Yeah – that's just because I'm better at it than you." He walked forward and tapped the side of Roxas' head. "Got it memorized?" Roxas rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be practicing?"

The two Nobodies turn towards the door where Xaldin stood. Unlike the movie however, the narrator is pretty sure that Troy's father didn't threaten his son with floating lances of doom. Axel was pretty sure of it too, and wondered how much trouble he would get into if he summoned his chakrams just for the hell of it (of course, the poor editing guy would probably suffer a midlife crisis if he did – poor editing guy).

Xaldin walked further into the gym, narrowing his eyes slightly at Roxas. "You shouldn't even be here. Marluxia has been looking everywhere for you." The blonde frowned slightly, giving Axel a pointed look. The redhead sighed and shrugged – like hell if he knew what was going on.

"I was just passing by," explained the keybearer with only the slightest hint on incredulity in his voice.

"You should continue passing through," came the deadpanned response.

Roxas gave Axel a look, and then handed the basketball back. "Okay. Sorry. I'll see you later Axel." He threw a slightly annoyed look (well, as slightly an annoyed look the usually blank-faced keybearer could muster) towards Xaldin before striding out of the room. The moment he was gone, Axel turned to face the higher ranking member of the Organization with a frown.

"What was _that_ all about?"

"Saix told me about what happened in the cafeteria." A pause. "Three power outages in one day?"

"That's Larxene's fault, not Roxas'," Axel said casually. "Besides, we haven't doing anything wrong. We're just sticking to the…" He trailed off and frowned. No…that wasn't right, was it? "We're just…it's just _singing_, Xaldin."

The lancer scowled. "You have more important things to worry about. Singing is not one of them."

Axel was sure there was something he was missing in the conversation, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. So rather than give himself a headache actually thinking about it, he tossed (not very gently, the narrator might add) at the older man, eyes narrowing. "Have you ever thought, after all this time, that maybe it is?"

Something vaguely in the back of his mind demanded to know why this sounded so familiar, but he ignored it and walked past the lancer and towards the gym doors, ignoring the slightly surprised looks of the crew behind him. He didn't at all notice the rest of his teammates crowded around the door, or their shared looks as he left.

Luxord frowned. "This is _not_ good."

(Once again in heaven, Noah Webster began his rant about the definition of good, and Ernest Hemingway, after a few moments, told him to shut _up_ already).

oOo

"Disney-fy?"

Naminé nodded, though she didn't look at all that calm about the situation. "Yes, I believe so. After all, it's easier to destroy something already damaged than something that still stands strong – if slightly annoyed. Besides, most of them are upset with Xemnas anyway…"

Sora waved his hands in front of his face, shaking his head in confusion. "Wait – you're telling me that the Higher-Ups are so jealous of the fan's love for Organization XIII that they're going to completely annihilate them by turning them into singing and dancing feel-gooders?" He huffed angrily. "Aren't we enough?"

"Excuse us?" Kairi and Riku asked at the same time. Sora ignored both of them, continuing his rant.

"I mean, c'mon, there would be no story without us, and the Higher-Ups have more influence on us than they would ever have on the Organization," the keyblade master reasoned. He gave his two friends a bright grin. "So we've got to help them! We can't have the Higher-Ups completely take over Kingdom Hearts!"

"Uh…Sora…we've already decided that we are going to help them."

"I know. I just wanted to make a speech."

Silence.

"Dork."

A beat.

"Okay…so now what?" Pence asked, spinning once again to look at the computer.

"Well, we try to contact Roxas again. We've got to warn them before it's too late," Riku noted. Pence nodded, and, after giving the computer a nice little lecture about what happens to computers that decide not to cooperate with their users (resulting in the computer having digital nightmares for the rest of its life), he began to input the data back into the system.

After a few moments of tense silence, they could hear the computer began to dial the number Pence had put in. On the third ring, someone picked up.

"Hello?"

Sora grinned. No more static – yippie! "Roxas!"

"Excuse me?"

"Roxas, this is Sora."

"Very funny." They could barely hear someone on the other line ask who the person was talking to, followed by a hushed, "I don't know…someone fooling around on the phone."

"We're not fooling around," Sora said. "But, we've got to warn you about something…"

"What are you talking about? Who is this?"

Kairi suddenly frowned as a bell went off in her head. "Um…Sora…"

"The Higher-Ups are planning to take over the Organization!"

"Is this a prank…wait, did you say the Higher-Ups?"

"Sora…I don't think that's…"

"Yeah. And we just needed to tell you guys. So you'll know what to look for."

Kairi finally decided that she didn't really feel like being ignored, and jabbed her canon-boyfriend in the arm. "Sora! That's not Roxas!"

The brunette blinked. "Huh?"

"Hey, are you still there? What are the Higher-Ups planning to do?"

Kairi sighed, wondered about the true idiocy of her friends, and gave the group around her a pointed look. Then she leaned forward, and asked the person on the other line, "You're not Roxas. But we're still going to need your help."

"Kairi, what are you doing?"

The red-haired girl rolled her eyes. "You guys – it's _them_."

The moment of silence offered its services one more time before packing up and leaving for its long sought-after vacation in Tahiti.

"Oh."

"Hello?"

For a moment, no one did or said anything (though the Twilight Town trio were still not quite sure who the mysterious people on the other side of the phone were). Finally, Sora took a deep breath, and said, "Man, oh, man – this is going to be weird."

oOo

"Weird – adjective. First definition – "

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Joe DiMaggio exclaimed, glaring daggers at the man. "Would ya shut up already!?"

Webster harrumphed.

oOo

**Author's Note**: ( 9 May 2007) Okay, first of all, I have to extend my apologies for the month-long wait for this chapter. April was super busy for me, and I was sick for most of it with pneumonia / a sinus infection. Of course, it was when I was sick that I was being attacked for the muses for these stories so…bleh. Sorry.

The good news is, I'm better, and this story is about to get back on track. There were a lot of plot points to cover in this chapter, so I'm sorry if it isn't as spastastic-funny as the first few chapters (and no, Noah Webster, spastastic is NOT in your dictionary).

And I honestly don't know whether Leo DiCaprio can draw or if Jennifer Beals can dance. I just know that they didn't do it in their respectively famous movies.

Oh, by the way, if you guys are ever wondering about updates and stuff, I usually update my user profile weekly, so check that out if you're wondering where I've been.

And _Spiderman 3_ stole my money. Thanks a lot, Spidey.

Thanks and please review (the button is so tantalizingly close)!

- Nashie


	12. Improbability

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: I don't own _Kingdom Hearts_. Ooh, but look at my Axel PlayArts figure! I do own that! Now if they would just make a Riku PlayArts figure then I'd be set.

oOo

Outside of a reasonably unpopular Chinese restaurant in a reasonably unpopulated street of Los Angeles, a group of six people sat on, leaned on, or stood by a pair of reasonably unremarkable (except for the one that was reasonably expensive) cars. They were eating Chinese food, and trying their best to digest (look at the pun!) the information that had just been given them over the phone.

"So…do you guys think we should go back?" ask the youngest boy through a mouthful of fried rice. "I mean, these are the Higher-Ups we're talking about…"

"Who are all-powerful, possibly all-knowing, and intent on taking over the world," the eldest girl said, waving her chopsticks for emphasis. She was sitting lotus-style on the hood of the blonde boy's car, and looked none too enthusiastic of going against the Higher-Ups. "Do we really want to face that?"

"Hey, we have a chance to save the world!" the other girl chirped with a grin, as the other five sent her dark looks. "I mean it's not everyday that we can do that. We could be superheroes…sort of."

The man gave her a long, pointed look, and the girl finally blushed, and laughed slightly.

"Okay, let me get this straight," the blonde driver said as he tossed his empty container into a nearby trash can. "Because of a call we get from Sora – _Sora_! – who claims that the Higher-Ups are planning to take over the Organization – as in _the_ Organization – we're going to go and march into their offices, and…do what exactly? They're going to think we're nuts."

"Well, we have nothing to lose then," the other blonde young man said with a small smirk.

"Hello! Again I state, these are the Higher-Ups! They control everything!" the first blonde young woman bemoaned.

"Not yet – but they will!"

"Let's take a vote!" the youngest boy said enthusiastically, nearly dropping his chicken onto the ground as he hopped off the hood of the man's car. "If you're all for saving the world, raise your hand."

The youngest girl's hand shot up, and then she glared at the brown-haired man, and the two blonde young men, all who sighed reluctantly and raised their hands. A satisfied smile crept onto her face. "Looks like we're saving the world."

The other girl frowned. "How?"

Silence.

"Um…"

"Save the cheerleader?"

"Oh, ha-ha, _very_ funny."

"Well…"

"Exactly how do you stop the most powerful company in the world that is loved by millions and will sue us for millions if we try to stop them?"

The group of six quietly reflected on this question, ignoring the look of consternation that Lou the register guy was throwing at them (after all, they were currently loitering in the parking lot, and getting strange looks from the passers-by – obviously, Lou didn't know who they were either).

"I've got nothing!" the blonde driver said, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Yeah."

"Same here."

"This sucks."

"I've got an idea," the brown-haired man said thoughtfully, tapping his chopsticks again the side of his container, and then smirking at the five others. "I'm just not sure it will work." He paused dramatically. The others sighed and shared looks.

"Well? What's your awesome plan?" the youngest boy asked.

"Hopefully it doesn't involve a blowtorch or a donut."

"…?"

"Don't ask."

The man blinked, and then crossed his arms. "Well, let's just say it involves some contracts, some phone calls, and a lawyer that is willing to work things out for us."

"Wait – a lawyer?"

"We're taking legal action?" the older of the two blonde young men frowned. "Where's the fun in that?"

As the six burst into arguing about who exactly would have the guts to take on the Higher-Ups of all people, somewhere, in a dark distant corner of the Kingdom Hearts universe, a certain Nobody by the name of Frank sneezed.

"Oh, that's never a good sign…" the Lawyer Nobody grumbled.

oOo

There are five crucial things that you should never do when you're involved with theatre. Some may seem very simple, but others you should definitely not do at the risk of your sanity, life, and current condition of your car.

The first is miss rehearsals (the director will most likely fire you, and then you'll be without a job, and you'll have to work at KFC for the rest of your life, smelling like chicken grease no matter how many showers you take). The second is break an expensive prop – it _will_ come out of your check and will probably cost _as_ much as your check. The third is forget your lines in the middle of a live performance – tomatoes, contrary to popular belief, are _not_ your friends. The fourth is put pudding in the make-up crew's hairspray.

And the fifth, most important thing that you should never EVER do when you're involved with theatre is…piss off stage crew.

Though everyone seems to think that the most important people to a play or musical are the thespians, the director, or the producer, that is all a lie. Because the stage crew runs the show – without them, there are no scene changes, there are no special effects, there are no sets, and most importantly, there are no lights. Trying to perform in total darkness with _very_ heavy backdrops lying around can be a _little_ hazardous to your health.

Now, when you're involved with remaking the disgustingly-popular, over-commercialized _High School Musical_, there are an entirely different set of rules that one must never break.

The first is never piss off Xaldin – being skewered by a lance at five o' clock in the morning is not fun. The second is never piss off Demyx (and if you've ever pushed Demyx to the point of getting him pissed off, consider yourself a remarkable person…then consider yourself a dead one). The third is never piss off Larxene – seriously, she _kills_ things. The fourth is never piss off the Abominable Snowman – he has been known to eat people.

And the fifth most important rule never to break is…never, ever fall into character. Because once you fall into character, your soul (or non-soul) is going straight to…well, a place that ain't so nice.

But, as with most things that have taken place so far, someone did not get the note about that until far too late.

Later investigation showed that a note did indeed appear in the pocket of Demyx's Organization coat, but since he was currently wearing the ever-preppy attire of his character, the note would go unnoticed and unheeded for a very, _very_ long while.

oOo

In the library of the high school, things were going as expected.

Wait, change that.

In the library of the high school, things were _not_ going as expected. What was expected was for Luxord and Axel to be completely going off their lines, that something in the library (namely, books) should be on fire, and than Demyx and Zexion would be behind the cameras, nonchalantly taking blackmail pictures of it all.

Strangely enough, none of that was happening (though by the annoyed look on Axel's face, the chances of something or someone – namely Luxord – ending up in flames was entirely probable. He had obviously forgotten the whole Michael Jackson ordeal a few chapters back…).

"Excuse me, but what sort of spell did that new student put on you?" Luxord demanded, following Axel down one of the aisles, as the redhead attempted to ignore him. Luxord didn't exactly appear pleased by the fact that the higher-ranking Nobody was ignoring him, and looked quite tempted to bash his head in with the basketball he was holding. "Before he showed up, you had your priorities straight. Now you want to be in a musical?"

"He didn't do anything," Axel said defensively. "Okay? It just…happened."

Luxord frowned. "Axel, you're a basketball player. Not a thespian."

"What the heck is a thespian?"

"An actor," the blonde replied. "See?"

"No, not really," Axel muttered, pulling one of the books from the shelves and flipping through it. Deciding that he didn't really need advice from _Chicken Noodle for the Nobody's Non-Soul_, he placed the book back on the shelf and walked off. Luxord sighed.

"Listen to me, Axel. If you keep doing this…musical, you're going to end up like…" Luxord paused, and then said, "You're going to end up like John Travolta."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "You mean insanely popular with millions of women's adoration and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame?"

"No, I mean playing a woman in a fat suit in a movie based on a musical based on a movie."

Axel blinked at him. "_What_?"

Luxord waved his hand nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter. Either way, you can't do this. The team is counting on you. You're the captain, after all."

"Somehow I don't think me doing a musical is really going to–"

"How do expect us to give one hundred percent if _you're_ not giving one hundred percent?"

Axel rubbed his temples wearily. "I am giving one hundred percent. Geez, I miss practice one time and suddenly I'm abandoning the team."

"That's what it looks like," accused Luxord, ignoring the hazardous looks that the librarian was shooting their way. "So, tell me now, captain – are you in or are you out?"

The redhead gave the gambler a betrayed look.

"Cut!"

The two Nobodies shared looks, and then turned to glare at the director, who sidled out from behind the cameras, giving the two a satisfied look. "That was really good. We won't even have to do it again – that's a first. But now – " Ralph trailed off as two Organization members glared at each other and then departed from the room, surprisingly not using any dark portals to do so. Ralph blinked, and then, after a moment, scratched his chin.

Quickly dismissing the crew to go film the next scene, he paced thoughtfully in the library. After everyone had departed (and he quickly looked around to make sure no one was left), he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.

The phone rang once, twice, thrice (one of the strangest words ever in the English language…)…and then…

"This had better be important, Ralph."

The Executive Nobody sighed, and then sat down at an empty desk. "It's working."

The person on the other end laughed. "About time – I was beginning to think that they would never give in. So…it's affecting all of them?"

"It's still taking a bit of time with Roxas, but the next few scenes should break him. The last few shreds of resistance are fading."

"Very good. This is going better than I anticipated."

"Sir, just one question."

"Make it quick – I have a meeting with the producers for _High School Musical_ _On Ice_."

Ralph winced, hoping that that idea wasn't as bad as it sounded (sorry, Ralph – it _was_ as bad as it sounded). "What are you going to do about the Organization's Superior and Number IV? I'm not entirely sure they're going to be thrilled with the idea that the rest of the Organization has completely come under your control."

"I'll take care of that. You just do the job that was assigned to you. Take care of Number XIII – we can't have any bit of resistance left in him."

"Yes, sir."

"And increase the 'feel-good' factor. This is, after all, a musical."

"Yes, sir." The phone clicked off on the other end and Ralph sighed, placing the cell phone back in his pocket. Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath and ran out of the room.

Unbeknownst to him, the Cabbage Patch doll sat on one of the lower shelves of the library, its red recording light still blinking on.

oOo

"So…let me get this straight…"

Sora turned to stare at the ceiling, an innocent grin on his face.

"You want us to go into the other Twilight Town…"

"Yup."

"Get in the Organization's headquarters, ignoring the fact that we have no way to get there without a dark portal or a gamer…"

"Yup."

"Talk to Xemnas, your number one adversary in the second game…"

"Third game."

"Whatever. Convince him to stop the Higher-Ups…"

"With our help, of course."

"All before the rest of the Organization can tap-dance their way into the musical clutches of the Higher-Ups."

"…yeah…I think that's it."

Riku sighed. "Well, as long as _that's_ it…"

Naminé looked worriedly between the two friends, and quietly said, "I don't know if it's going to work. Don't you remember the last time you tried to get to Xemnas?"

A dark look crossed Sora's face. "You don't exactly forget when you have skyscrapers thrown at you…" He sighed. "Whatever happened to nice, suitable conversation? Why must everything always end with buildings getting thrown around?"

"Yes, Sora, I'm sure that happens in every day life," Riku said, rolling his eyes.

Kairi cleared her throat, and her two best friends shut up. She grinned at both of them, before leaning back against the computer console. "Boys, we're going about this the wrong way. Chances are Xemnas won't even listen to us. What we have to do is think lower on the Organization totem pole."

"We tried to get to Roxas. It didn't work," Pence noted, gesturing to the computer. "We just got…um…who are they again?"

"A couple of people very close to us who can get closer to the Higher-Ups than we can," Sora stated simply, earning him the glares of many people out in the Kingdom Hearts universe. The keyblade bearer shrugged. "Well, it's true."

Kairi giggled. "Either way, we need to warn them _somehow_."

"Hey, fellas!"

"Your Majesty!"

_Deus ex machina_, anyone?

The mouse king flickered onto the screen, at some undisclosed location (though from the giant yellow arches in the background, the group could reasonably expect that there was some subliminal advertising at work). "Hey, everyone! I was hoping you were still here!"

"We were just about to leave."

"Before you go, I've got some important information that you might wanna hear!"

The six young people shared looks, and then Sora leaned forward. "Yeah?"

"Not all of the Organization has been brainwashed. Other than Xemnas, there was still one member left inside the Castle – Vexen."

Riku wrinkled his nose. "The creepy scientist guy with the weird laugh?"

"Yup, that'd be him! And also…" Mickey leaned forward, and looked around to make sure no one was listening. "One of the Organization members who is involved with the project knows what's going on. He's been our insider to everything that's been goin' on." He sighed. "Unfortunately, we haven't heard from him in awhile. We don't know what's goin' on there."

"Who is it?" Naminé asked, sharing a look with Riku. Mickey sighed.

"I can't tell you…"

"Can't or won't?" Sora said with a raised eyebrow and an amused look. The king chuckled.

"Sora, just because the narrator is mad at _you_ doesn't mean that she has to be mad at me too," Mickey chastised with a grin. The keyblade master blushed, and rubbed the back of his head as Riku rolled his eyes and Kairi laughed. "Anyway, you probably want to get in contact with Vexen. He's been keeping an eye out on the Organization too, but he hasn't been able to be everywhere at once."

"Not looking forward to that," murmured Riku.

Sora blew a raspberry at him. "Suck it up. We have to save the world." He paused. "Again."

"Are we saving the cheerleader while we're at it?" Hayner asked.

Kairi rolled her eyes. "Not _that_ again."

Before Hayner could protest his idea (because obviously he thinks that his ideas are the best in the world – right next to microwavable popcorn and Kleenex), Olette covered his mouth and sighed. "Hey, we'll stay here and keep in touch with King Mickey. You guys go to the other Twilight Town and save the Organization."

Sora grinned. "Let's do it!"

"Again – not to be the bearer of bad news, but we still have no way to get to the Castle That Never Was."

Silence. Well, except for the electric buzzing of Riku's "ANGST" sign which was going into blinking overload.

Naminé frowned, and, unseen by anyone, quickly began to draw something in her sketchbook.

"Riku, you got Naminé out back in chapter two. Can't you…I don't know…get us back in?"

Riku sighed, and then reached…somewhere…and pulled out a very thick book, and flipped it open to page one. "Sorry, no can do. That dark portal was a plot device. It only had a one-time use warranty. Something about having this story remain somewhat canon…"

"Well, that's inconvenient."

"Now what do we do?"

"You must believe in yourselves, rangers!"

The group of seven shared very stunned looks (though Riku looked very tempted to pummel the narrator). Sora gulped. "Please tell me that's not…"

The keybearer didn't even have the chance to finish his sentence because at that moment, a giant floating head appeared on the blank screen in front of them. Hayner, Olette, and Pence stared, while Kairi wrinkled her nose. Naminé blinked and quickly shut her notebook (because she definitely did not want anybody to put two and two together).

Sora's shoulders slumped.

"Zordon?"

"You must morph quickly and teleport to the Castle That Never Was," the giant head boomed. "The universe is in grave danger. Observe the viewing globe."

"Oh, god," Sora moaned, slapping his forehead with his palm. "_Why_?"

"Was there really _no_ other way for us to get there?" Riku muttered, eyes narrowing.

Kairi looked around the room. "There _is_ no viewing globe."

As the three bemoaned their fate of becoming spandex-clad, karate-chopping, pun-spouting, cliché-advice-wielding superheroes, Naminé simply leaned forward, and quietly asked, "Could you just teleport us there, Mr. Zordon? We can really only do one crossover at a time."

The giant head seemed to consider this, and then he nodded.

"May the power protect you."

Five seconds, four teleportation beams, and two very confuzzled executive producers later, the group of heroes landed smack dab on the Brink of Despair.

Sora sighed, and scratched the back of his head. "Well…anymore questions?"

Riku glanced around, and looked quite thankful that the "ANGST" sign was finally, finally gone. "No. Let's get this over with."

With that, the quartet set on their way to find the ever elusive, ever strange, ever creepy Number VI.

Somewhere else, on the space shuttle Enterprise, Captain Kirk sighed, and drummed his fingers against the console.

"Darn… I. Was. Really hoping. That. They. Would. Use our. Method."

oOo

Demyx was wearing a hat.

Lexaeus was pretty sure there was something very wrong with that, but it seemed that the part of his mind that should have been nagging him about the musician's headwear was currently smothered in peanut butter and had gone off to Tahiti with the moments of silence. Either way, he couldn't quite put his finger on why Demyx wearing a hat was not a good thing.

He shrugged it off as the ninth member of the Organization passed him in the hallway. It didn't really matter – white fedoras were in, obviously, in this high school (which obviously had no dress code whatsoever).

Demyx, meanwhile, adjusted the tilt of his hat, and glanced over at Larxene, who was examining her reflection in the mirror. And because a chapter simply cannot go by without the narrator divulging what the Savage Nymph was wearing, the narrator will…well…divulge: the twelfth member of the Organization was wearing a tan leather mini skirt, a bright blue camisole, and a tan leather cropped jacket, complete with white furry…stuff at the cuffs and the collar (the narrator is almost positive that something was killed in the making of that outfit).

And she was wearing a pair of probably expensive, completely impractical cowboy boots.

But the very strange thing was…she was not complaining.

Not that the crew wasn't thankful for that, of course. After all, they appreciated heated metal objects not being stuffed their esophagus by a very much annoyed lighting-wielder (they also appreciated the idea of living – it came in handy sometimes).

"Once I find that little brat, I'm going to make sure he stays out of the callbacks," Larxene muttered darkly as she rummaged through her purse in search of her (pink) phone. "I have a reputation to keep."

"That's nice," Demyx replied, glancing towards the ceiling.

"No, it is _not_ nice," the blonde young woman seethed. She suddenly halted in her path, and grabbed Demyx's arm. "Wait." She pointed to where Luxord, Zexion, and one of the other basketball player dudes were sneaking into the calculus class, and her eyes narrowed. "What are they up to?"

"Maybe it's in the script?"

Larxene rolled her eyes, and dragged her "brother" towards the door. They watched as the trio approached the Scholastic Decathlon team sitting near a mess of test tubes, half-finished homework, and couple of Twinkie wrappers (so technically it appeared to be more like Vexen's workspace back in the Castle That Never Was, but the narrator digresses for fear of ruining the old icicle's image and already minimal PR).

"Rangers!"

No, PR as in Public Relations, not Power Rangers. Geez, why are you here anyway? Didn't you die in, like, the fifth season?

"My spirit of goodness and justice will always prevail in the hearts of all who seek–!"

Whatever, Zoltar.

"It's Zordon!"

Demyx, who had chosen to ignore the ramblings between the narrator and the intergalactic giant head known as Zolt…ahem, _Zordon_…, frowned. "Well, suppose it's not in the script. What exactly are they planning?"

Larxene's eyes narrowed. "The braniacs are plotting with the jocks – whatever it is, it's not good." She frowned. "What if they're actually planning to sabotage _my_ plan? That means…" Her eyes widened and she spun to face Demyx. "That means they actually want Axel and Roxas to win this thing. And if they win, do you know what happens to us?"

Demyx scratched his head. "We're screwed?"

"Exactly," the smaller blonde snapped, and then spun on her heel to storm down the hall. "We have to stop this!"

Demyx blinked. "I'd ask why…but, hey! Wait!"

Back in the classroom, Larxene's hypothesis was only proving half-true. If she had bothered to stay and listen (or read the script which was alarmingly becoming less and less stiffly-acted), she would have realized that the braniacs and the jocks weren't discussing how to push Axel and Roxas into the starring roles of _Twinkle_ _Town_.

Yes, you read that correctly: the musical of _High School Musical_ is called _Twinkle_ _Town_. Why anyone would even want to be cast in something with so horrendously-cheesy a name is beyond the narrator's comprehension, and she will simply say that there have been worse musical titles…like _A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum_, or…_High School Musical_.

Ahem.

"So, you actually think it will work?" Marluxia asked, raising an eyebrow to give the three basketball players a skeptical look. "I don't think Roxas or Axel will be too happy about that."

"They'll thank us in their own due time," Luxord waved the concerned question off. "But it's our duty as friends not to let…" He trailed off, frowning. Then he shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "It's our duty."

Marluxia took a deep breath, and then nodded. "I hate to admit it, but you're right. We can't let them audition."

"So…tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow."

And even though Luxord was pretty pleased that Marluxia had agreed to his idea, he couldn't really tell if he was happy (and the narrator uses this term loosely) that he was getting Axel to concentrate on their upcoming game or if…if he was happy (again, term used loosely) that…that…

He shook his head. No. Just must be the game. The Wildcats were undefeated – now was not the time to lose their captain to showtunes.

Speaking of showtunes…

In the music room of the high school, where, surprisingly, very few scenes were actually shot (all things considering, since this is a musical – retards), Lexaeus was attempting to work on a certain duet with a certain blonde-haired keybearing Nobody.

Said blonde-haired keybearing Nobody was being a tad bit uncooperative.

"Are you trying to give me a headache?" Lexaeus finally asked, frowning.

Roxas sighed. "Not really."

"Care to try again?"

"Not really."

Again, the disgruntled frown. "Roxas, the callbacks are only a few days away. You don't even know the chorus of the song yet." The keyblade master shrugged and headed towards the window, where he sat down on the sill and looked out over the front lawn of the high school. Unbeknownst to Roxas, a brightly flashing "ANGST" sign hovered just out of view over the window, with an arrow pointing downwards.

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"Do you not like the song?"

"It's alright."

"Are you being completely emo, as is the case for your constant portrayal in eight percent of Kingdom Hearts fandom, or are you madly in love with Axel, as is the case for your constant portrayal in seventy-six prevent of that eighty percent fandom?"

Silent Hero? Not so much.

Roxas blinked. "Eh…?"

"I'm not going to pretend to care," Lexaeus grumbled, "but whatever mood you're in, you might want to snap out of it soon." He frowned. "Axel's doing a good job, anyway."

Roxas half-smiled out the window. "That's cool."

"There. Progress." Lexaeus cleared his throat, and then turned back to the keyboard in the room, and began to play the opening chords of "Breaking Free". "Lets try again." Roxas sighed, and hopped down from the window sill to go peer over the giant man's shoulder, and attempt to sing the duet again.

He paused for just a second, and then asked, "Lexaeus…I thought you didn't know how to play piano."

The fifth member of the Organization shrugged. "I thought I didn't. I guess Nobodies do learn quickly." He gestured to the first verse. "Now, sing."

oOo

Listening carefully at the door, Ralph took one look at the bottle of whiskey in his hand and shrugged, tossing it into the nearest trash receptacle.

"Well, I guess it's finally working after all…"

oOo

In Los Angeles, the group of six was really, really, _really_ wishing they had thought of another plan.

"Your plans sucks," declared the youngest darkly. Her grey-blue eyes narrowed in the general direction of the man. "Hardcore."

The man ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. "Well, I didn't hear anybody else come up with any brighter suggestions."

"Hey, I suggested we ignore the entire thing, but does anyone listen to me?"

"No." The older of the two girls glared at the man, who simply shrugged. "Well, we can't just do nothing. The Higher-Ups are planning to take over the world."

"You know, we could just wait 'em out," the blonde driver said as he glanced up at the Higher-Ups headquarters. "After all, iPods, Starbucks, and emo-pop are the front runners on the list of Most Likely Candidates to Take Over the World."

"Don't forget cell phones," the youngest boy said with a smirk.

"And _American Idol_," added the other blonde young man. He paused. "Oh, forget it. _American Idol_ has already taken over the known cosmos."

"We're not going to wait them out," the man said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, we have the best plan ever – legal action rocks."

There were a few seconds of very long, very pointed silence. Finally, the youngest turned to the other younger members of their group. "Who votes for a better plan of action?"

Five hands shot in the air.

The man groaned. "What ever happened to respect for your elders?"

"It drove itself off the cliff when the elder decided he wanted to have a Nobody – a fictional character, may I remind you – sue the Higher-Ups," the oldest of the two blonde young men said with a sigh. He glanced towards the gates. "Besides, I've got a better idea." He turned to the older girl, who still looked a tiny bit unhappy with the entire proceedings. "Do you have his phone number on you?"

"His…who?"

The young man gave her a pointed look, and she blinked.

"Oh, right. But what does that have anything to do with it? He won't be able to do anything."

The youngest girl's eyes suddenly widened. "Of course!" As the others gave her surprised looks, she grinned, and crossed her arms, looking very much the picture of an overconfident high schooler who had just been given all the answers to the ACTS, the SATS, the PSATS, the VMAs, and the BYOBs. "The Higher-Ups aren't trying to take over the world! They're trying to take over _Kingdom Hearts_!"

"Wait – come again?" the blonde driver said.

The girl grinned. "Don't you guys see? _High School Musical_ is ginormously huge – why would they need the Organization to make it bigger?"

"Power ploy?"

"Sort of. Um…okay, so the first game was huge, right? The Higher-Ups were suddenly kinda cool because they paired with the makers of _Final Fantasy_. But then the second game came out…"

"_Chain of Memories_?" the youngest boy asked.

"No, that's the in-between game," the oldest of the younger part of the group said, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever it is," the girl continued, "it changed things. Suddenly, the Higher-Ups weren't as cool. They lost some of their power. And why, my friends, do you think that is?"

Silence.

"What do the second and third games have that the first did not?"

Silence.

The girl sighed. "Starts with I and ends in XIII."

"Oh…the Organization?"

"Bingo. They went and pushed Maleficent and her friends right out the window for the villain space."

The man rubbed his temples wearily. "Wait a sec. All this exposition is giving me a headache. Are you telling me that the Higher-Ups want to take over the Organization – to Disney-fy them – because they're jealous?"

"Um…yeah." The girl shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Oh, then, we're screwed." As the five younger members of the group looked at them, the man pointed in the director the Higher-Ups' headquarters. "The Higher-Ups are jealous, which makes them determined, which makes them liable to string us up by our contracts and choke us with them. Not good."

The older of the two blonde girls suddenly smiled, as if finally getting the last piece of the puzzle. "Unless I get in touch with him." She winked. "Because if there's one thing the Higher-Ups don't like is for their stars to be pushed out of the limelight."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain it to you later. Right now, we have an Organization to save."

oOo

And boy oh boy, did that Organization currently need saving.

There are very few things in life that are as scary as uber-Disney-fied Organization members. Demyx had already been pushing the bill (though once again, the jury is still out on that one), but having all thirteen (well, thirteen minus one conspicuously absent Superior and one conspicuously weird scientist) join in a part of a believe-in-yourself-follow-your-dreams-be-unique musical…well, then it just gets downright scary.

It was the next day at the high school. Students flocked about, doing things that students do before classes (such as cramming for a environmental science test that had been issued at the teacher's whim the day before or attempting to woo the unpretty-pretty girl because of a bet someone made with a couple of jocks).

So on and so forth.

Luxord was having none of it. His usual group of victims (also known at the students who lacked lunch money later in the day) were standing around, actually enjoying themselves for a change. Rather than pull them into a game of Go Fish, the gambler was absently dribbling a ball, waiting for Marluxia to show up. Contrary to popular belief, timeliness was not Marluxia's forte (it took a lot of effort to get those sakura petals to fly in the most dramatic way, goshdarnit!).

Five minutes after the time they were supposed to meet, Marluxia casually walked up the stairs, glanced behind his shoulder, and then hurried to meet Luxord.

"You're late," Luxord accused, looking around. "And we better make this quick."

Marluxia sighed, and opened his backpack, pulling out a laptop. "Here. And don't break it. It took a lot of time to configure the data correctly."

Ignoring the little smothered voice in his head that demanded to know when Marluxia became computer-savvy, Luxord glanced at his watch. "What time do you have? I'm going to put this plan in motion at thirteenth hour."

"There's a pun in there, I'm sure of it," Marluxia said, glancing down at his watch. "Fine. One o'clock." With that, they shared nods, and then walked off into opposite directions.

A few moments later, Zexion walked by, followed by a flock of cheerleaders.

"So, what's in crème brulee?" one of the girl simpered. Rather than coldly brushing them off, Zexion gave a small smile (and the world as we know it ended).

"It's a desert made from custard, with a layer of hard caramel, created by burning sugar under a grill."

"Oooh…" the cheerleaders squealed, and giggled amongst themselves.

Zexion gave a small shrug. "Maybe I'll make it for Home Ec one day.

"Oh, my god! Really!?"

"Yay!"

"Oh, wow!"

The narrator thinks that promising such things may be a very _bad_ idea.

oOo

It was at one o'clock that Axel walked into the locker room.

It was at one minute past one that he realized something was not quite right.

In fact, he may have even run for his life if he hadn't remembered at the last moment that he was supposed to shooting a scene.

So instead, he stared, perplexed, at the rest of the team who were standing in front of him, having set up some sort of vaguely-creepy shrine to all things basketball. It was like some sort of Memorial to the Jock – there were pictures lying around of people that Axel had never seen before in his non-life and was praying fervently never to meet.

Had he joined some sort of blood fraternity that demanded the offspring of cattle every new moon?

Deciding that asking that question was not in the best interest of his future offspring (insert argument over whether Nobodies can have little rugrats here), he instead said, "Um…hi?"

"Max Powers, class of 1975," Luxord said, holding up a picture of a guy that was more legs than any other part of his body. "MVP three years in a row. He led the Wildcats to regional victory his junior and senior year, and got a scholarship to the most prestigious college in the country."

"What does this have to do with anything…?"

"Sam aka Sammy "Slamma Jamma" Johnson, class of 2000," Zexion added, holding up another picture of a guy…well, slam-dunking a basketball (what an _original_ nickname). The other jocks cheered – for some indisputable jock reason that best not be discussed here. "Captain of the Wildcats in his senior year, and he led them to nationals. First place."

A few days ago, Axel figured that Zexion saying "Sammy Slamma Jamma" would have been downright disturbing, but now, he just felt faintly confused.

"What do all these great players have in common?"

"All? You just gave two…"

"They led the Wildcats to victory and beyond," Luxord said, stepping forward, still holding the basketball in his hand (the narrator swears that that thing is glued into his hands). "Just like our captain this year. You were the only sophomore to make varsity, so we voted you our captain this year. But unfortunately something came up. Or should I say, a certain someone?"

A certain someone…oh. Axel laughed and rolled his eyes. "C'mon, guys. This is stupid."

"We put everything on the line with you," Luxord said, frowning. "The game is on Friday. And there is no way we can pull anything off as a team if our captain is being distracted by showtunes and blonde-haired braniacs."

"It's not like that, and you know it," Axel said, throwing up his arms in exasperation. "But, geez. There are eleven other people on this team other than me."

"Eleven?" Luxord laughed in disbelief. "You've forgotten one very important person, Axel." He gestured to Zexion, who handed another framed picture to the redhead. Axel took it and frowned – the picture was obviously taken during the first few days of production, because Xaldin was glaring murderously at a deflated basketball with a lance skewered through it.

Axel sighed. "Oh."

"Your dad is every bit a part of this team as everyone else – we're not the only people you'd be letting down."

"Get your head in the game!" the other jocks enthused.

Axel shook his head, and leaned against the doorpost. "You guys – this is pointless. This whole musical thing…it's nothing. You're my team, and always have been."

As Axel continued on (and unknowingly digging himself deeper and deeper into the hole of oblivion), a similar meeting was taking place across the school. Except replace Luxord and the basketball team with Marluxia and the Scholastic Decathlon team, and the Memorial to Jocks to Memorial to Smart People, and you have pretty much the same basic conversation.

"Let me put this in a way you can understand it, Roxas," Marluxia said, leaning forward. "Jocks are stupid. We're smart. Hanging out with lowers your intelligence level by around fifty points."

Roxas rolled his eyes, and managed not to laugh. "You're all overreacting."

Marluxia frowned. "Are we now? We're actually your friends, Roxas. Axel doesn't care about this audition – all he cares about are his jock friends, and that stupid game on Friday."

Roxas stood up, picking up his backpack. "I'll see you guys at lunch." Marluxia sighed, and then gave one of the braniacs a nod. Eloquently, of course – old habits do die hard after all.

"_The_ _whole musical thing…it's nothing. You're my team, and always have been_."

Roxas frowned, turning around. "What?"

"_When this is over, I'll forget about it. Okay? The musical, Roxas – not important_."

Roxas met Marluxia's with something akin to his glacier stare. "That's in the script, Marluxia."

The assassin shrugged (elegantly). "If it were, wouldn't the crew be around filming this?"

Ouch.

The blonde-haired keybearer remained motionless for a few seconds, and then he walked forward and closed the laptop, his face perfectly unreadable. "Okay. Fine."

The other members of the Scholastic Decathlon gave their captain a look – okay, sure this has been in the script, but they were beginning to suspect that something deeper was running amongst the Organization. Roxas' carefully blank face revealed absolutely nothing, though from the abrupt action, it was clear that he wasn't exactly thrilled with his best friend at the moment.

Marluxia gave the shorter member of the Organization something akin to a sympathetic look. "Listen. We'll be downstairs in the chemistry lab if you need us."

Roxas said nothing.

The crew rushed in a few moments later, as the Scholastic Decathlon team left. Ralph took one look at Marluxia, another look at Roxas, and then muttered, "oh, crap," beneath his breath. Quickly hushing the crew, he turned to catch Marluxia before the assassin disappeared out the door. "What did you do?"

Marluxia raised an eyebrow. "What had to be done."

Ralph groaned. Double crap.

Roxas, meanwhile, had walked over to the window of the room and looked down at the front yard of the school, where the rest of the cast mingled in their bright reds and whites of the school. Technically, a voice in his hand murmured, he shouldn't have been all that angry. After all, it was in the script (even though Axel was his best friend and shouldn't say things like that, that jerk), and Nobodies didn't have feelings so he shouldn't be feeling upset…

Oh, screw it.

"_It's funny when you find yourself looking from the outside_…"

Ralph blinked, and turned back to where Roxas was still looking outside. This was…not happening?

"_I'm standing here but all I want is to be over there_…"

The members of the crew looked around at each other nervously. Was the world as they knew it about to end? Even though it was sung softly enough to be barely heard, Roxas was still singing. Without provocation. Or Axel. Or promises of destruction of certain parts of the crew's anatomy in the near future.

"_Why did I let myself believe miracles could happen / 'Cause now I have to pretend like I don't really care_…"

Ignoring the crew, Roxas brushed past them, that decidedly blank look still on his face.

"_I thought you were my fairy tale / A dream when I'm not sleeping / A wish upon a star that's coming true_."

"Follow him," Ralph whispered and ushered the crew to follow the thirteenth member of the Organization down the flight of stairs he was headed to. The crew quickly complied, and rushed ahead to capture the rest of the solo. Surprisingly, Roxas either didn't care, or just was too wrapped up in being pissed off at Axel to notice.

"_But everybody else could tell / That I confused my feelings with the truth / When there was me and you…" _

Ralph paused just behind the crew, watching them go. Roxas was slowly yet surely singing louder, and as he did, the carefully blank face was melting into something akin to hurt. And Ralph somehow was a bit unsure of what to think of that. Roxas' kicked puppy look was known to destroy planets…

Still…

He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed the number of…well, a very important Higher-Up.

"This had better be important."

"We got him. We got Roxas."

The man on the other end laughed. "Perfect! Absolutely perfect! That's the entire Organization now!" A smug note entered into the man's voice. "Soon, we will completely own _Kingdom Hearts_. The Organization will be completely under our control."

"Sir, may I just say that there are still two other Organization members…?"

"I'll let Sora and his friends handle that. Donald and Goofy will be the perfect assets. Finally! No more angst! No more dark storylines! From this point onward, it will only be wholesome Disney goodness that is enjoyable for the whole family!"

Somewhere in the KH fandom universe, ninety-nine point two percent of fanfiction writers screamed in horror.

oOo

In the World That Never Was, Sora wanted to scream. But not in horror – rather, he was looking to scream in pure, unadulterated frustration.

They were lost.

"I don't get it," Kairi said, glancing at the other three members in the quartet. "You – " she jabbed her finger at Sora, " – have played through this part of the game over a million times. And you – " she turned to glare at Riku, " – you had to spy on this place for months on end! And you – " she finally spun on Naminé, " – helped _me_ escape. So would one of you three people please explain to me how in the world we're lost?"

"Um…we don't know our way around?" Sora suggested. "Besides, it looks a lot different when you're not fighting Heartless up the kazoo."

"Couldn't we have just save pointed our way into the Proof of Existence?" Kairi asked. "That would have saved us some time."

"Technically, we're not supposed to know where that is," Riku pointed out.

"Well, it's kind of obvious now that we know a lot more than we're supposed to," Naminé said with a small smile as the group walked up a ramp in some twisted room that defied gravity (and nobody in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, was ever going to bring them down).

Ten pieces of digital chocolate if the reader actually understood that.

Anyhoo…

Five minutes later…

Riku finally stopped, and peered over one of the railings. "Maybe we should just blow something up. That usually gets people's attention."

"Or could you just knock politely," someone murmured in a deep voice, and a dark portal appeared on the landing above them. A dark cloaked figured stepped out, and glared down at them. He pulled down the hood, only to reveal the Organization's Superior (remember him? He's been missing since chapter…two or three, and the narrator thinks it's in everybody's best interest not to ask what he's been doing since then). "What is it that you're doing here?"

"Trying to save _your_ Organization," Sora said, summoning his keyblade instinctively. What form it is can be decided by the reader – the narrator would be partial to the Ultimate Weapon if the stupid moogles would have stopped bugging her about synthesizing stupid things like Orichalcum (seriously, how do you even _pronounce_ that?).

"Really?" Xemnas didn't look the least bit convinced.

"This is going to take awhile, isn't it?" Kairi asked, folding her hands behind her back, and glancing at Sora. The brown-haired boy nodded.

"Yeah, probably."

Naminé meanwhile had glanced over at where Riku was still casually leaning over the rail and frowned. "Riku?"

"Hmmm…?"

"What's that on your back?"

The silver-haired, angst-attracting young man frown, and he reached behind him, raising an eyebrow as he pulled a piece of paper that had somehow magically taped itself onto his back. He glanced at the sheet of paper and then scowled – in large cursive surrounded by hearts was the word, "SEME!1!!!1!"

Somewhere, a fangirl squealed in delight.

Sora snorted, and Kairi giggled, while Xemnas looked faintly unamused. Riku groaned.

"Why me?"

oOo

**Author's Note** ( 22 May 2007): Holy freakingly long chapter, Batman! Seriously, that is the longest chapter I've written (sixteen some pages) – probably because I was on a roll, and probably because there are only three chapters (and an epilogue) left to _This is Not High School Musical_ and many things needed to happen in this chapter. We're on the countdown!

And you guys made my day when I saw _This is Not High School Musical_ has over 100 reviews. I died and went to heaven, and then remembered I still had more chapters to write. But thanks a bundle to everyone who reviewed! You rock my world (and plant ideas of a possible sequel to this silliness). What will the sequel be? Hmmm…well, the ideas are floating around in my head…stop floating, darn you! Sink or swim!

Four-day weekend for me! I must work on my other two KH fanfictions (and ignore the temptations to write a big _Heroes_ fanfiction! No! I refuse!)

Reviews are greatly, greatly, _greatly_ appreciated!

- Nashie


	13. Hush

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: I'm disclaiming things, such as pocky, cranberry sauce, and ramen noodles…what do you mean it has nothing to do with _Kingdom Hearts_? Whatever…eat my fishsticks!

oOo

Sora was whistling the theme to _Indiana Jones_ underneath his breath, and Xemnas was getting tired of it.

For those who don't know exactly what the heck has been going on, the narrator will explain.

Our heroes (insert random "save the cheerleader, save the whatever" joke here) managed to sneak into the Organization's stronghold, with the help the intergalactic being known as Zordon. Some time after being teleported, they came across the Organization's Superior, who, as the readers all know, has been missing since some chapter really really long ago, doing who knows what (but it probably involved staring at Kingdom Hearts, and muttering stoically to himself and sulking about mysteriously).

In order to avoid more exposition than is absolutely necessary, lets just say our heroes have explained to Xemnas what is going on with the Higher-Ups and the Organization in general.

Xemnas was, to say the least, unpleased.

After the group had calmed him down with promises of candy hearts and something made by Prada, they all went about discussing how to actually save the Organization.

Here is a small sample of how _that_ conversation went:

"Well, we could –"

"No, Sora."

"How about if we –"

"That's illegal, Kairi."

"If we just –"

"This little thing called the CIA, Riku."

"This is pointless." Xemnas, of course.

Naminé, in the meantime, had resolved to stay out of the conversation, and began doodling…whatever Naminé doodles when she's bored (lets face it – we all know that Naminé is a closet fangirl. She's probably responsible for 40 of the 2.5 million AkuRoku pictures circling the internet).

So, after resolving that no one's idea was a good one, the group decided to hunt down Vexen. After all, at least he might know what was going on. And it also might do some good in advancing the plot.

This still doesn't explain why Sora was humming the theme to _Indiana Jones_.

Well, technically, there's no explanation for it. Sora just liked _Indiana Jones_.

Xemnas did not.

"Would you cease with that mindless droning?" the Superior finally said as the group descended yet another twisting stairwell that led to another platform that led to another room that led to a really big elevator that led to another twisting stairwell that led to the pantry that led to…something that looked like the Stargate (Kairi was about to ask about this – and also ask where MacGyver was – but decided, once again, that one crossover was enough).

Sora feigned hurt (but, like the mastermind keyblade master he is, he tucked this little snippet of information somewhere in his skull – hey, little things like that might be important later…ish). "Just because you don't like _Indiana Jones_, doesn't mean that I can't."

"You understand so little."

"If you even think about launching into a monologue," threatened Riku, "we are leaving your Organization as it is – singing about believing in themselves, and dressing like clichéd high school students."

As Naminé attempted to point out that in the game Roxas already dressed like a high school student, the group finally made it to the Proof of Existence (which, as Lexaeus liked to call it, the "To Be or Not To Be" room). For all those familiar with the game, this is the same room Sora went off to fight Luxord and Saïx (only to be turned into a die or a card or battered by a certain berserker's claymore – quite painful). The wall that had been destroyed after Axel mentioned that Larxene bore some resemblance to the woman in _American Gothic_ had since been repaired by the wonderful crew of Extreme Makeover: Non-Edition.

Now, according to the game, most of those little markers were supposed to be red. Well, since this is obviously not the game and has deviated so far from canon that it should be illegal (which it probably is in the southern states), all of the markers were bright blue. Yea for uber-shiny lights.

The group phased through Number IV's marker, and entered into a long dark hallway. Well, as dark as it could possibly get, considering that everything in the Castle That Never Was was painted GLARINGLY AND PAINSTAKINGLY BRIGHT WHITE XOMGWTFDONDEESTAELBBQ!?!?!? (With some pastels and silvery details added in – for a group that prides themselves on being dark and mysterious and emo, they can sure be pansies with the color schemes…)

Xemnas approached a broad door the stood closed ahead of them. He was about to raise his fist to knock until he recalled that he was the Superior and that he didn't need permission to barge into his underlings' private rooms and goshdarnit, he didn't need to explain why he did it either (which of course would take a really long time, since Xemnas loves to give those long monologues…)

So Xemnas disappeared through a dark portal, leaving Sora, Kairi, Riku, and Naminé standing outside, looking annoyed.

"Well, that was rude."

"You expected him to invite us in for tea and crumpets?"

Naminé ignored the banter (boys will be boys after all) and went to knock on the door.

Silence.

"Oookay…now what?" Sora asked.

He was surprised to find three pairs of eyes glaring pointedly at him. Well, more specifically, his keyblade. And, no, not _that_ keyblade – stop right now before you get any bad ideas. (Though the narrator wouldn't exactly be opposed to that sort of fanfic…it makes for an interesting read).

Oblivious to the narrator's fangirlish thoughts, Sora looked down at the keyblade in his hand (MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER NOW!!!!) and laughing, emitting an embarrassed, "Oh."

Ten seconds of awesome CG-ness later, the door to Vexen's room opened.

The quartet entered into the lab, which, for the sake of cutting down description, looked exactly like a mad scientist's lab. Test tubes of different colored liquids, smoke rising from various beakers, and paper with illegibly written notes took up most of the space in the room. Near the middle of the room sat a nifty looking computer console. Sitting at the computer console was the much-sought after Chilly Academic, eyes glued to the computer screen. Resting next to the Chilly Academic was a bright orange mug that read, "My grandmother visited Gold Saucer and all I got was this lousy mug."

Sora blinked. "So…this is Vexen, right?"

Naminé nodded and stepped further into the room, clearing her throat. "Vexen…did Xemnas come in here?"

Not even looking up, Vexen pointed towards the northern wall of the room – where Xemnas stood, gazing out at Kingdom Hearts, having been distracted by the big heart-shaped lightbulb in the sky, and had launched into a random monologue about the "true essence of the heart."

Sigh.

Our heroes shared looks, and then glanced back towards Vexen. Sora finally cocked his head to the side, and called out, "Hey, um, Vexen. Uh…the Organization's in trouble and we're here to help."

Vexen finally looked up, and seeing who had entered into his office, raised an eyebrow. "So, the keyblade master and his friends have come to rescue the Organization. How heroic."

"I certainly thought so!" Sora chirped with a grin. "And since we're here to save you guys from getting completely and totally Disney-fied, you should really help us out."

Vexen frowned. "I don't need any help."

Riku scowled. "Oh, really."

"Yes, really."

Kairi rocked back on forth on her heels, turning her gaze to the ceiling. "Well, King Mickey sent us here and said you needed help. And that you guys lost contact with your mole…whoever that is."

For a few seconds, no one said a word (except for where Xemnas was divulging into scene three of act one of his monologue). Then, Vexen sighed, turning to face the computer again. "I suppose if it's absolutely necessary. But this does not mean we're allies."

"Yeah, yeah, mortal enemies, eternal struggle of light and darkness, the end of the world as we know it," Sora said, rolling his eyes. "We know, we know." Kairi and Naminé shared looks before heading towards the computer console, Sora following them as his keyblade vanished. Riku turned to shut the door, and then turned to follow the other three to the computer.

He stopped suddenly, and a slow smirk appeared on his face as he watched Sora. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

The narrator refuses to admit involvement (though it could technically be considered payback for a certain keyblade master for completely obliterating the fourth wall).

Riku chuckled quietly, and walked over the computer, deciding not to tell Sora that the younger boy had a fantastically explicit "KEYHOLE!!!1!!111!" sign attached to his rear.

Oh, the fangirls.

oOo

On the set of _High School Musical_, pretty much all the Organization was on non-speaking terms.

Roxas wasn't speaking to anyone but most of all Axel because he had lied, that idiot, and he didn't need to say all those things and now everything they had done was pointless, and why did his ex-friend talk so much without thinking!? The blonde-haired keyblade master had resorted to moping about in the library, looking quite sad and miserable, so that any passing fangirl in the cast immediately doted on him.

Axel has been surprised when Roxas had given him the cold shoulder, and hurt too. In return, he wasn't talking to any of his teammates, was avoiding Demyx and Larxene, and was definitely avoiding Xaldin because he didn't feel like having the other Organization member drill more team-based enthusiasm into his head.

Xaldin wasn't talking to anyone except the basketball team, because Axel refused to speak to him other than monosyllabic answers (unheard of for the usually talkative fire-wielding Nobody). Lexaeus would have talked to someone, but he was so concerned with learning how to play "Breaking Free" that he simply didn't have the time.

Larxene wasn't talking to anybody except Demyx and possibly Saïx, and even that seemed to be on a need-to-know basis. Demyx wanted to have somebody to talk to, but every time he approached someone, they would give him that Look, and the blonde musician would sigh and wander off to the library to search the computer.

Xigbar wasn't talking to anyone because he was still holed up in his office, now having discovered the wonders of YouTube and Japanese exercise music videos.

Luxord was talking to Marluxia, but only because they felt (term used loosely) guilty about the suddenly tense atmosphere that had resulted from their scheme, and tried to turn it around. It was also most likely due that Roxas' sad and miserable look was so sad and miserable that one couldn't help but feel extremely guilty whenever one passed the library.

Luxord and Marluxia's talk had, of course, led them to the conclusion that they should try to explain to Axel and Roxas what they had done.

Mistake number one.

"Hey, Axel," Zexion called as he and Luxord climbed up to the greenhouse, spotting the eighth member of the Organization sitting on a bench, doing homework. Green eyes lifted, narrowed, and then went back to try to analyze how to decipher the nuances of Greek mythology and some dude named Spartacus.

"Hey," came the cheerless reply. Luxord and Zexion shared looks.

"Axel, we had another team meeting." Luxord didn't quite sigh at Axel's scowl, but he came pretty close to it. "It wasn't about you – it was about us. We haven't been acting much like teammates. The singing thing…" He trailed off, and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Listen, the singing thing is fine, if it's what you want to do. As friends, we should be cheering you on."

"Even if you can't sing," Zexion replied. He paused. "Though it would be convenient if you could."

Axel lowered the book he was reading, and glared fiercely at the other two basketball players. "It looks like you'll never know. Because Roxas isn't even talking to me."

"About that…"

Axel frowned. "About what?"

Zexion managed not to groan, but he handed over some wrapped pastries before sharing a guilty look with Luxord. "Maybe you should eat that before we tell you."

Mistake number two (Axel was lactose intolerant – don't ask).

Somewhere else in the school, in the science lab, another conversation was taking place that was remarkably similar to the disastrous one ongoing on the roof of the school…

"We weren't good friends," Marluxia concluded, with an eloquent shrug of the shoulder. "We were so concerned about the Decathlon that we thought that if you kept spending time with Axel, there would be no chance we would win."

Roxas said nothing for a long moment, though he did look very disappointed. Finally, he turned to look at the whiteboard, where an equation was written, unfinished. He shook his head as, without any fanfare, he went on to finish the compound. "It doesn't matter. It's better this way."

Marluxia frowned, and then he turned to the other honor students and shook his head.

Mistake number three – just because Roxas may have seemed nonchalant about the whole revelation didn't mean that he still didn't pack a mean right arm.

The dry eraser hit Marluxia square in the back of the head.

The assassin turned, gaping at the short blonde who glared furiously at him. "That's for being a jerk."

In the meanwhile, the crew had been scampering back and forth through the high school the past couple of days to keep track of all these random misgivings that were threatening to tear the Organization in two. Well, most of the crew scampered. Ralph simply watched the goings-on with something akin to amusement (well, as much amusement as a much-heckled, emotionless Executive Nobody could have) and had simply sit back and watched the show.

Personally, he was relieved that the Disney Effect© was finally occurring. Though he had expected it to happen with a bit more happiness, and less pseudo-teen angst, he was still glad that he had less to worry about. By the time the big finale would come, the Organization (save for the two members still holed up in the Castle That Never Was) would be completely and utterly controlled by the Higher-Ups.

And it was about bloody time.

Ralph stretched amiably as he ambled into the library, once again wearing his very expensive Italian suit and very cheerful bright red tie. He would have to report to the Higher-Ups soon, and he didn't want to do looking as flustered as he had been so many days ago when the Organization had been driving him up a wall (literally – there are skid marks from where Xigbar had driven the janitor's car alongside the cafeteria walls).

He already knew that Roxas had found somewhere else to mope, since the library was currently devoid of fangirls. Some of the more bored members of the crew and extras in the cast were milling about, reading books about Roman architecture, surfing the web, blogging, and doing any number of things teenagers do when they're bored (um…well…not _everything_…if you get the narrator's drift).

Ralph was surprised though to see that Demyx was occupying one of the computers. The Melodious Nocturne had draped his jacket over his seat even though he was still wearing his pageboy cap and seemed to be discovering the mysteries of search engines.

Ralph cleared his throat.

Demyx blinked, and then looked over his shoulder to see the director hovering over him. "Oh. Hey, Ralph. What's up?"

"Where's Larxene?"

Demyx blinked at him, and for a moment, Ralph thought he wouldn't answer him. But that moment passed, and the blonde grinned. "Probably working on our duet. We're going to own those auditions. She works so hard." He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "I'm proud to call her my sister…well, for the time being, at least."

Ralph crossed his arms. "Well, that's good to know."

Demyx nodded. "Yeah. Y'know, I'm gonna be a bit sad when this is all over. I mean, I know a lot of people aren't talking to each other right now, but…we can work it out, right?"

"Right. Of course." Ralph wiped off some non-existent lint from his jacket sleeve. "If you'll excuse me, though, I have an important meeting to get to."

"No problem! See you around, Ralph!"

The director retreated from the library

As soon as he was gone, Demyx let out a sigh. Climbing to his feet, he grabbed his shoulder pack and jacket and headed towards the back of the library, to the ignored section of the library – the study section. He had set his phone on vibrate, and only now turned it up higher so that the faint notes of a ringtone could be heard.

He flipped open the phone, and answered the call. "Hello?"

"About time! I think we need to talk."

oOo

In the Higher-Ups headquarters, the group of mystery people was having a small problem of their own.

The secretary sitting at the desk was downright stunned to see the first three walk in, after only hours before running out as if their lives depended on it. The lobby was a little more crowded now, and some people openly gaped at the seeing them (at least the youngest two). The youngest girl smiled her sweetest smile and leaned forward against the reception desk.

"Hello. We're back."

"I see that." The young woman at the desk smiled wanly, not quite believing what she was seeing. "Are you here to see Him?"

"Of course. We were such idiots for running away. I mean…it's just a contract negotiation, right?"

The secretary had no idea what the blonde girl was talking about, but decided to humor her, answering her with an uneasy "right" before letting the group of six pass by towards the elevators.

As soon as they were out of earshot, the man sighed, his very blue eyes looking very serious. "This better go as planned."

The youngest boy smiled, crossing his arms and waiting for the elevator to come down to their floor. "Remember what Sora said – we have to stall the Higher-Ups so that they can save the Organization. And then we go ahead with our plan."

"You only have his phone number?" the eldest of the younger members asked, giving the oldest girl a solemn look. She rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Yeah. I've only worked with him. Not any of the others." The elevator happily chimed its arrival. "It would be more helpful though, wouldn't it?"

Unbeknownst to them, as they climbed into the elevator, the vending machine in the cafeteria and the computer back in Twilight Town were sending the usually cheerful elevator a drastic warning: these people meant trouble. They would do the elevator bodily harm if it did not cooperate.

The elevator's good day came crashing down.

Well, not literally, since that would spell the unfortunate demise of the mysterious group of people. However, the elevator decided not to risk upsetting the group in any way…and promptly stopped moving between floors. Now, the logic of elevators has been hotly debated over the years. Why it shut itself down when that's exactly how it would gain bodily harm would be discussed for generations to come.

As for right now, only a single thought prevailed in the suddenly still elevator.

"Are you _serious_!?"

The elevator harrumphed, and went to sleep.

The blonde who had driven the car sighed, and glanced towards the ceiling of the elevator. "We must have done something to anger the gods of fate. Because they sure as hell have it out for us today."

After a few moments of pushing the fire alarm button and calling down for assistance (at which they were assured that help was on the way), the group decided that yes, fate indeed was a cruel master – if it wasn't, after all, _Lost_ would have at least answered one or two of its five thousand six hundred and twenty three point five mysteries that threaten to boggle the mind.

Wait – it already has boggled the mind?

Oh, well.

oOo

Every single last one of the members in the Organization is stubborn to a fault.

Axel was the worst one.

After being ignored by Roxas for no good reason for way too long (okay, so maybe he had been an idiot and he didn't really need to have said all those things because everything they did hadn't been pointless and maybe he really did need to learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes), Axel had decided to apologize.

Of course, he hadn't bet on being avoided by the keybearer Nobody every moving instant.

Roxas could be even more stubborn than Axel (hey, there had to be some basis for those AkuRoku stories circling the net) and had made it a point to avoid the eighth member of the Organization at all costs. And when they happened to end up in the same vicinity, Roxas would simply ignore him. Ouch.

Axel, being the ingenious Nobody that he was, ultimately thought that enough was enough. Ignoring the camera crew that seemed to follow his every move, he headed towards the only spot he knew Roxas would be moping at. Since the library was virtually covered with eagerly awaiting fangirls, there was only one spot left for the blonde-haired Nobody to hide: the house set.

The idea of climbing trees didn't appeal to Axel one bit.

So he rang the doorbell at the front of the house, which, how appropriately, played "It's a Small World".

Axel winced, and was tempted to burn the doorbell into a molten version of its former greatness. Fortunately, the actress who may or may not have been related to Roxas, opened the door before any serious damage could be done. She frowned at him. "Can I help you?"

"Hey…um…Mrs…er…Mrs. Roxas' Mom…is Roxas here?"

"No."

"Then can you tell me where I could find him?"

"I don't think he wants to talk to you."

Axel made a face. "Well, he doesn't have to say anything. I have to talk to him though. I did something…kinda stupid, and I wanted to apologize."

"I'll pass the message along."

Axel sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay." He paused. "Are you sure he isn't home?"

"You're starting to sound obsessive."

Axel blinked as the door was promptly shut in his face. Darn. That lady had been spending too much time around Roxas. And he was pretty sure she was right – Roxas didn't want to talk to him at all. However…they were best friends…

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. And rang.

Oh, the suspense.

"What do you want?"

"Listen, Roxas, before you hang up–"

Click.

Axel sighed, and dialed again. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

"What?"

"Roxas, are you even going to let me–"

Click.

Three tries later, Axel finally managed to a whole sentence later (though if you thought that Roxas really didn't want to talk to him, he wouldn't have kept picking up…tear that one apart, fangirls).

"Roxas, about the other day, I didn't mean any of that. The other guys on the team kept pushing about the singing thing, so I said that stuff to make them shut up."

"You sure didn't sound like you were making it up, you retard," came the surly response. Axel winced. Okay, so maybe he deserved that.

"Yeah. I was wrong. But I was just sick of it, okay?"

"Cry me a river, Axel." A pause. "These auditions, us singing…everything. It doesn't feel right anymore – it's like…I don't know. It's too much a problem."

Axel frowned, sneaking in through the gate. Of course, this is what we call breaking and entering, boys and girls. However, since this world is controlled by the Higher-Ups, no one will press charges. Because the world is that nice and perfect and understanding.

Right.

"Okay, I agree with you – it's problem. But it's not our problem. Remember I told you that singing with you was fun. It still is. I really want to do this audition."

"I don't know."

"Well, I can't do it by myself, Blondie. Aw, cr–!!"

Something crashed outside.

Roxas raced to the window, throwing it open and then leaned to peer over the balcony. Axel lay on the lawn just below the balcony, the trellis that he attempted to climb lying on top of him. Roxas sighed, clicking his phone off, and propped his chin up on one hand. "You _are_ a retard."

"Ow…" The redhead sat up, rubbing the back of his head (where any normal person would have a concussion). Leaves clung viciously to his red spikes, like little children who refused to let go of their parents' hands on the first day of kindergarten…or college. "Aren't you even going to ask if I'm okay?"

"You're not dead. So you're okay."

"Oh, _thanks_."

Silence.

"Why in the world were you trying to climb the trellis?"

Axel rolled his eyes, and pulled some sheets of paper from his back pocket (now decidedly crumpled and covered in grass stains). "I was going to bring you this."

"I thought I burned that."

Axel did remember that little episode – before going on his vigilant "I Refuse To Speak to Axel or Have Anything To Do With Him, So Help Me Spartacus" tirade, Roxas had quite pointedly burned the pairs' audition sheets (there had also been gummi bears and a jump rope involved, but Axel decided it was best not to relive the memories of the subsequent bonfire that nearly put his skills to shame).

"You did. I printed another one." He winked at Roxas. "_This could be the start of something new / It feels so right to be here with you, oh / And now looking in your eyes / I feel in my heart the start of something new._"

Roxas rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to smirk. "Okay. I guess."

"You guess what?"

"I guess I could forgive you. After all, what kind of person would I be if I let you make a fool out of yourself for nothing, serenading me in the moonlight like that?"

Axel made a face at the shorter blonde.

"Gee, thanks, Roxas."

oOo

Back in Vexen's lab, Kairi wasn't sure whether or not to be a little or completely disturbed by the Cabbage Patch kid that sat tauntingly on Vexen's desk. It was far too happy…and that innocent smile seemed to promise death and destruction for whoever laid eyes upon it.

Riku had made some comment that Vexen sure seemed to like playing with dolls (somewhere in the KH universe, Repliku sneezed), which had irritated the scientist for around five minutes, as Sora attempted to do some damage control.

"So…you've been keeping an eye out on the Organization with this thing?" Sora asked, pointing at the Cabbage Patch doll. Vexen nodded stiffly, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he attempted to do…something. Whether or not that something would be helpful is best left up to the reader's imagination. Hey, lets just say that he's trying to track down the mole of the Organization. "Um…have you found out anything?"

"The attack was subtle," came the reply. "It seemed as if Larxene might have tried to sabotage it, but she was too much like the character she portrays. She fell under the spell." The blonde-haired man frowned. "Axel and Roxas seemed to have a plan to stop the Higher-Ups, but it fell through, from what I can tell from recent tapes."

"They had a plan?"

Vexen nodded, though he looked irritated with the number of questions Sora was asking. "It involved hydrogen bombs, nucleic acid, Sour Patch Kids, and a guy named MacGyver." The four young people gaped at him, and Vexen tried not to roll his eyes. "I don't even _attempt_ to understand them."

"So, how do we get in contact with them? You said you've been to the set where they've been shooting."

"Once. But they must have found out I did, because I haven't been able to get back there."

"Well, we have to warn them. Get them back to their original selves!"

Vexen rubbed his temples wearily. "It may be too late. They may have gone past the point of no return."

**_BAAAAAAH! BA-BA-BA-BUM-BAH!!!!!_**

"You just had to make a _Phantom of the Opera_ reference, didn't you?" Riku said with a sigh as the opening chords to the famous musical blasted out of nowhere.

Somewhere, a chandelier crashed.

Anyway…

More pointless plotting might have continued, if a dark portal hadn't suddenly appeared in the room, and a black-cloaked Organization member hadn't half-fallen through, falling flat onto his face in the middle of the lab. Following him was another black-cloaked figure, although the two giant ears and the much shorter stature practically screamed "KING MICKEY"!!!!!

Or that kangaroo from Looney Tunes.

Now, if you recall, there are only two Organization members in the Castle That Never Was: evil creepy guy Vexen and still-monologuing-for-no-apparent-reason Xemnas. This means that this newly arrived Organization member could only be the much sought after mole.

So, of course, the first thing Vexen did was get up from his seat, calmly walk over to his fallen comrade, and kick him in the ribs.

"Do you have _any_ idea how long I've been trying to get a hold of you?"

There was a muffled "ouch".

King Mickey sighed and lowered his hood, gazing up at the faces around him with a serious expression. "Gosh, everyone. I'm glad you all made it here safe and sound."

"Thanks to Mr. Zordon," Naminé admitted.

The mouse king blinked, but decided not to comment on that (one crossover at a time, after all). "Well, I think it's about time we've gotten together, don'tcha think?" He glanced towards the Organization member who was still picking himself off the floor, rubbing the spot where Vexen had unceremoniously kicked him. "It took me forever to get a hold of him, although…it wasn't because of the Higher-Ups."

A half-hearted, somewhat embarrassed laugh emitted from the still-hooded figure. "Sorry about that. I just wanted to have the right ringtone for this kind of thing." As if on cue, the theme from _Mission__: Impossible_ began to play from a cellphone.

And with that, Demyx pulled off his hood and gave the group a smile, scratching the nape of his neck.

"So, uh, what's up, guys?"

oOo

In the elevator at the Higher-Ups' headquarters, the group of six was still lounging around, stuck in the shaft, waiting for rescue.

It was only after the first fifteen minutes did the oldest girl's phone ring.

She blinked, and then picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey, what's up? Listen, did you call me earlier?"

The girl's bright blue eyes widened and she grinned, quickly hushing her five companions. "Yeah. I did. I have something really important to tell you, but don't freak out."

"Ooookay…what's going on?"

"Well, Zac, it's about the Higher-Ups…"

oOo

**Author's Note** (09 June 2007): Alright, everybody who thought the mole was Demyx, raise your hand. Okay, thank you. Now, all those who want to know the identities of the six mysterious people, raise your hand. Ah, okay. Thanks again.

Only two more chapters left of **This is Not High School Musical**! Oh, I'm so happy. Well, there's also the little epilogue (but that doesn't really count).

Um, ten digital Easter eggs for anybody who actually caught the _Stargate_ and _MacGyver_ connection. I love _Stargate SG-1_…Michael Shanks makes me one happy fangirl.

Oh, by the way, I started a new LJ specifically for my fanfiction drabbles. You can check out the link on my user page. I'd love to hear from you guys (as you debate my sanity).

Does anybody want to adopt a plot bunny?

Review for the sake of the plot bunnies!

- Nashie


	14. Adjust

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: I don't own _Mary Poppins_.

……

…

…or _Kingdom Hearts_.

oOo

"Darkness is the true essence of the heart, and only in understanding the heart can one comprehend that attempting to divulge from the true importance of having a heart is meaningless. Henceforth…"

Yes, that would be Xemnas.

Twenty minutes earlier, Sora had placed a cute stuffed penguin next to Xemnas, but the Organization's Superior failed to notice the stuffed animal sitting next to his feet. So, he continued praising Kingdom Hearts, the stuffed penguin sitting solidly next to him, so that the two looked pretty prepared to conquer the world (if you can imagine that the world could be conquered by a Nobody of an assistant of a scientist dude conspicuously absent from this story and a ridiculously cute stuffed penguin named Mr. Schnoodles).

Back over by the computers, everyone else was trying to figure out how Demyx of all people had not been affected by the Disneyfication process back on set.

"What I wanna know is why did you choose him?" Sora asked King Mickey, pointing at the musician who was arguing with Vexen about playing solitaire on his computer. The noticeable vein-mark that was starting to appear above Vexen's head clearly stated where that conversation was going.

King Mickey sat on the edge of the desk, and smiled. "Well…who would suspect Demyx?"

"Ah…good point."

At hearing his name, the blonde-haired Nobody looked up and grinned at the keyblade master. "You wanted somebody else? Axel and Roxas are a bit busy being all chummy and googly-eyed with each other at the moment, and the others are all freaks."

Vexen harrumphed while Sora and Kairi looked completely wide-eyed and mystified at the idea of Axel and Roxas making googly eyes at each other (they obviously had never been to Deviant Art). "I'll be sure to tell Zexion that when he gets back."

"_If_ he gets back," noted Riku. Vexen glared at him, but kept his mouth shut (after all, Riku would probably contradict whatever he had to say anyway…stupid angsty teenagers). "We still have a job to do, remember."

"Right!" King Mickey said seriously, frowning. "You guys did get in contact with them, right?"

"Yup," Sora said, sitting down in a swirly chair and spinning himself around in it. "They said they had a plan, hopefully foolproof, that'll get the Higher-Ups to back down." He sighed. "Unfortunately, we have no way of contacting them here. We left Pence, Hayner, and Olette to deal with it back in Twilight Town."

(Back in Twilight Town, the aforementioned three were currently engaging in a death match of Scrabble, and Hayner was insisting that "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" was a word, while Olette and Pence were pretty convinced that there weren't enough spaces on the stupid Scrabble board to even spell out the word. Just to prove Hayner's case, we'll check it with Noah Webster later).

"So, exactly what are we going to do?" Kairi asked.

"Unfortunately," King Mickey began, folding his hands, "Xemnas signed the contract for them. So they can't legally get out without being buried in paperwork and sued for millions of munny."

"Can you sue people who don't really exist?" Demyx wondered aloud.

"Do you really want to test that question?" Vexen retorted. Demyx decided to shut up.

Sora sighed, and sat back further in the swirly chair, looking up at the ceiling. "So, even if we do tell them something's up, they can't do anything except wait it out. The only way they're getting out of it is if the Higher-Ups say so." He perked up suddenly. "Wait. If they know, and then do an awful job for the rest of the shoot, the Higher-Ups won't put it on!"

"Why not?" Naminé asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Well…they wouldn't show a bad movie and actually expect people to like it, would they?"

Riku snorted. "You obviously haven't seen the second or third _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movies."

"Harsh."

Demyx cleared his throat. "Well, do you guys think that your friends…whoever they are…are actually going to be able to stop the Higher-Ups?" The trio of heroes shared looks, and then nodded together. Demyx grinned. "Then, no problems. If they work fast, then we shouldn't have to suffer much longer. Though, we really do need to break that spell."

"Agreed."

Silence (save for the drone of Xemnas' voice in the background).

"Um…exactly how do we do that?"

"I suppose we can't just tell them?" Naminé asked, and then shook her head, answering her own question. "No, they'd never believe us."

The narrator personally suggests something that involves the letting loose the tide of fangirls, but alas, there's only so much even the fangirls can do in a case this serious.

King Mickey sighed. "Well, it's gonna be worth a try." He turned to the four youngest members of the group. "Sora, Riku, Kairi, Naminé – I want you four to go back to the set with Demyx and try to convince the Organization that trouble's brewin'. Hopefully, we're not too late."

Sora raised his hand. "Uh, your Majesty? In case you forgot, I'm the keyblade master. Champion of light and goodness and all that nice stuff. I don't think the Organization is going to like having me around. They might try to manipulate and kill me…again."

More silence.

"There's actually a good idea in there somewhere," Vexen murmured. When Sora glared at him, the scientist held up one hand and shook his head. "Not the killing and manipulating part – at least not at the moment." Sora squawked in protest, but Vexen continued anyway. "But most of what the Organization feels, so to speak, for you is anything but good. Those thoughts should be able to override the Higher-Ups' spell."

Demyx tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That's not a bad idea once you think about it."

"Who's the best person you think we could get to first, Number IX?" Vexen asked.

"Um…lemme see…" The musician sprawled on a nearby chair and began counting off on his fingers. "Axel and Roxas are definitely out. They're taking method acting to totally new levels – you guys should have seen the fire Roxas started in the parking lot the other day. Xigbar has retreated to the office – I haven't seen him in days, so he might be a good choice. Xaldin is all-scary, "I'm-a-good-coach" father figure now, so that's a bad one. Larxene is…uh…she's not a good choice. Neither is Luxord, Marluxia, Saïx, or Zexion."

"Leaving us with…Lexaeus," Naminé noted. "You think we could get to him?"

Demyx nodded. "Yah. Best choice there. Him or Xigbar."

Sora sighed, and crossed his arms. "Why do I have to be used as bait?"

"Because you're the main character," Kairi said with a cheerful smile. "You're always gonna be sought after by the bad guys."

"Define bad guys, please," Vexen noted sourly.

Before Riku could put in his two cents (or five…which would be a nickel), King Mickey leapt off the table, pulling the hood of his coat back over his head. "Then it's decided. We should get going."

"How? Traveling to and from location is a one-time thing."

"Oh."

Kairi's eyes lit up. "Hey…didn't I see a Stargate back that way?"

King Mickey blinked. "A Stargate?" Vexen sighed, and sat back in his chair.

"Don't ask me. Luxord's the one who's obsessed with eBay."

oOo

Back on location, everything was going hunky-dory.

Yeah, it was that scary.

"Great job, Wildcats!" Xaldin said as the basketball team played a practice game against each other. Oh, look – the boys were having fun. Why shouldn't they be? After all, the basketball players who were extras still had all of their money in their pockets since Luxord was no longer concentrating solely on Blackjack (or other random card games the narrator knows nothing about). Zexion had gotten the phone numbers of at least two thirds of the female extras, Luxord was relieved to actually have Axel putting effort into the game, and Axel was just glad everyone stopped bothering him about the musical.

It really was a wonderful, perfect world.

Gag, choke.

Practice ended, and Axel bounded from the gym towards the locker room, hurriedly changing (now, c'mon fangirls, you really didn't expect the narrator to emphasize and go into detail on this part, did you?), and then taking off past his friends. Luxord and Zexion shared looks, and they both grinned.

"Looks like the captain is back."

"I'll say."

In another part of the school, Roxas was explaining what happens when chemical acids explode (it…well…explodes). "Just make sure when you pour the liquid into this compound, only to use ten point five milligrams or the compound will overflow."

Marluxia leaned over the set, careful not to let any of the bleaching residue land on his sweater vest. "You might want to turn down the heat."

"This will make it go faster." Roxas pointed as his notebook, the pages covered in illegible equations and functions meant to boggle the mind. Oh, they still boggled the mind, but not from their complexity, just over the idea that someone's handwriting could be that sloppy. "One hundred and twenty one degrees Celsius. If it goes over than that, reduce it to one hundred and five degrees."

"Uh-huh…"

No – that wasn't supposed to make sense at all. The narrator copied all of her homework from someone else during her chemistry class – by the way, study hard, be cool, and stay in school.

"Roxas!" The blonde-haired Nobody glanced over his shoulder, and saw his best friend grinning at him from the doorway. "We're gonna be late."

Roxas grinned, packing up his folders and books. "You guys got that explanation earlier, right?"

"Make sure nothing explodes," Marluxia said, rolling his eyes, even though he was smiling. Roxas nodded, hanging up his lab apron and then running towards the door, just avoiding colliding with Axel as he did so.

"You were gonna make us late."

"Whatever, Axel."

The two took off running down the hallway. The narrator can only suppose that it was the end of the day, since there seemed to be no other students in the hallway. The editing guy can be happy about that. In fact, the entire crew can be happy period. After all, after completely nearly two-thirds of the film, the Organization was finally, finally acting right and in character.

Ralph, in fact, was debating whether or not to throw himself a party as he watched Axel and Roxas take off down the hallway. He called "Cut!" and then sat back in his director's seat. The past few days had been ridiculously easy – probably due to the fact that nobody (no pun intended) had threatened murder, and nothing had exploded recently. In fact, the cost of damages at the end of the production might even be under the million munny mark (Ralph could only hope so).

His conversation with the Higher-Ups the other day had gone well. They were all quite excited over the fact that everything was finally going smoothly – after all, it hinted that the Organization was almost completely under the Higher-Ups control. Of course, there were still a few little touches to work out here and there, but all of that would be solved in time.

_He_ was especially pleased with the idea. Ralph had been relieved when He told him that it would all be over soon, and even suggested giving Ralph a raise. The Executive Nobody had declined of course – he would be much happier duking out on the edge of non-existence with Yuppie Nobodies and Lawyer Nobodies, thank you very much.

As the crew departed from the hallway to go film the next scene, the door to the janitor's closet rattled alarmingly. A bright bluish-white light could be seen glowing just underneath the door, and then – the door slammed open (LOUDLY), and our trio of heroes, Naminé, and Demyx all came sprawling out onto the floor. King Mickey just calmly stepped around the pile of youngsters and looked up and down the hallway to make sure they hadn't been spotted.

"Ouch…" Demyx mumbled, climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. "Why would someone put a Stargate inside a janitor's closet?"

"The question should be why would somebody put a Stargate in the set for a high school?" Kairi said. She had landed on top of the pile, next to Naminé, and had simply jumped off before looking around at her settings. "This place is big."

Sora grumbled something about why did he always have to be on the bottom (yaoi fangirls rejoice), and then sat up, glancing around. "Hey, we made it."

King Mickey nodded. "Now, we have a job to do." He looked up at Demyx. "Who would be closer at the moment, Lexaeus or Xigbar?"

"Um…we're close to the music room, so probably Lexaeus." The blonde-haired Nobody paused, and then scratched the back of his head. "I should actually go find Larxene. If we're supposed to be shooting a scene, and I'm not there, she'll kill me."

"Wait, I thought she was supposed to be under the spell."

Demyx winced. "I know. She is." As the others shared looks, Demyx's Organization cloak warped into his high school costume – a pair of dark gray jeans, khaki-colored sweater, and dark gray fedora. Demyx winced at the fedora and immediately took it off. "I really, _really_ hate these hats." Waving good-bye, he sped down the hallway, around the corner, and was gone.

After a few moments, Riku finally said, "King Mickey, honestly: why did you pick him?"

The mouse king chuckled. "Well, gosh. Probably because the Higher-Ups' plan wouldn't've worked on him, y'know?"

Sora blinked. "Come again?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you fellas later. Right now, we've gotta find Lexaeus."

oOo

At the Higher-Ups' headquarters, the mysterious six were currently confined in the very boring office room from chapter one.

Needless to say, their plan had hit a small glitch.

They had been rescued from the elevator by the Fantastic Four (also known as Larry, Bill, Jim, and some electrician guy named Luke who smelled like fishsticks). Larry said something about it being odd that both the elevator and the vending machine in the cafeteria had all broken down within hours of each other. This group of six would have attempted to be nonchalant about it, but alas, at the moment, the secretary of the Higher-Ups came storming up to them.

In the politest voice and with the biggest smile on her face, she said, "Well, you all are in a load of trouble." And with the politest of gestures and still with a big smile on her face, she led them to and then locked them in the conference room, cheerfully saying that He would be with them in a moment. And with the click of the lock, the group sort of knew they were somewhat doomed.

The youngest of the six sipped her latte (honestly, no one could ever pinpoint where she got those ginormous drinks from, and the youngest boy suspected that she had a coffee machine tucked under her baby tee – all attempts to find out had resulted in him getting glared at suspiciously by the tiny blonde). She glanced out the window and sighed. "Well, isn't this fun?"

"At least the contracts are gone."

"Oh, yippie."

"Cheer up," the man said, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms. "Things could get worse."

The oldest of the younger group laughed quietly, and rolled his eyes. "'So we cheered up, and, sure enough, things got worse.'" The man snorted.

The conversation would have continued down the path of the bleak and dreary, but at that moment, the door swung open – and brilliant rays of happy sunshine came filtering in.

Well…not quite.

A man stood in the doorway with a big smile on His face. In order to not confuse him with the oldest guy in the group of six, he will henceforth be called Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things. "Welcome back."

"Understated 'eep,'" the youngest boy murmured quietly, sinking into his chair a little bit.

"Well, what an adventure you all have had today," Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things said, coming into the room, followed by a handful of other people who were also smiling and talking quietly and laughing and pretty much enjoying themselves and being completely oblivious to the discomfort of the six who sat around the conference room table. "That was some break you made this morning."

"If you were that impressed, could we go home?" the youngest asked with a sweet smile on her face. The man shook his head.

"That wouldn't be a good idea," Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things said cheerfully. "After all, there are still contracts to sign."

There was a dull thump and groan from where the youngest boy's head hit the tabletop. "Life hates us."

"Aren't you a comedian!" the Higher-Up said with a robust chuckle. Chuckles should not be robust. Seriously. It scares the children. Either way, He laughed, and then gestured towards the door. "Now, we've already wasted many hours today, and we were hoping to finish this up soon to make it official." The six shared looks – not confused looks because they didn't know what He was talking about, but downright terrified looks because at that moment, six very thick contracts were wheelbarrowed into the room.

The blonde young man who had driven the getaway car winced as his encyclopedia…er…contract was dropped in front of him. Unbeknownst to the group, the legs of the table wobbled and buckled slightly from the weight of all six of the contracts combined. "Um…do we _have_ to do this?"

"Yup, indeed you do."

"Well…we're not going to," the oldest of the girls said.

There was a collective gasp around the room (it was very melodramatic).

"Pardon me?" the Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things said with a frown even as he still smiled. How that's humanly possibly, the six didn't even attempt to try to find out. But the oldest girl simply took in a deep breath, and repeated what she said. The man chuckled (robustly) again. "Well, I'm afraid you can't refuse."

"Uh…technically we can…"

"Really now? Explain it to me."

Oh, boy. This might take awhile.

oOo

In heaven, Noah Webster was looking up the word, "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" and was scratching his head in befuddlement when Elvis Presley came up to him and asked him what he was doing.

"I'm trying to see if this supercali…superca…supercalifra…this _word_ is actually a word – it's not in my dictionary," Webster said, pointing furiously at his book.

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?" the King asked. Webster nodded. "Well, I don't know if it's any of my business, but it sounds a bit kinda atrocious, uh-huh."

Webster huffed. "Oh, what do you know?"

Elvis looked at his watch. "Well, friend, I'd help more but I've got some places to haunt. Those kids in Memphis still think I'm alive, and I love bein' in my own impersonator contest, uh-uh-huh." With that, the man struck a pose and disappeared in a poof of hairspray and white polyester with rhinestones.

Webster grumbled under his breath.

oOo

On the set of _High School Musical_, Lexaeus wasn't disagreeing with them.

He just wasn't _agreeing_ with them, which, when you think about it, was pretty much the same thing.

Sora, Riku, Kairi, Naminé, and King Mickey had tracked the Silent Hero to the music room, where the muscular Nobody was sitting at the piano, playing "Breaking Free" quite beautifully actually. Sora had blinked, Riku raised an eyebrow (more over Lexaeus' shorts and green-and-blue polo shirt than his piano playing), Kairi simply looked confused, and Naminé quickly sketched down what she was seeing – oh, yeah, this was definitely doing on Deviant Art.

Lexaeus had listened to their story with all the patience in the world. Then, quite simply, he said, "That's silly."

Sora blinked. "Uh…why?"

"Because what you're saying doesn't make sense," the Nobody said, turning back to the sheets of music in front of him. "I mean, I know we're part of the Organization, but, there's really no need to accuse us of such heartless acts."

Riku frowned. "You guys have no hearts. Hence, the heartless acts."

Lexaeus shrugged. "Well, I suppose, maybe it could have been possible. But not anymore. We're all psyched about this musical."

There was silence.

"Did he just say 'psyched'?" Sora stage-whispered to Naminé who only blinked and nodded in shock. Sora made a face. "Man, this _is_ bad. _I_ don't even say 'psyched.'"

"If he says something like 'wicked cool' or 'my bad', my brain is going to explode," noted Riku absently, running his hand through his hair. He sighed and gave Sora a sidelong look. "Sora, we've got to work fast. This is going nowhere, and fast."

It would have went nowhere a lot sooner, but since nowhere wasn't going anywhere quickly for the time being, it made perfect sense that nowhere was at a standstill as Roxas and Axel walked into the room, laughing at some joke that the reader will never ever know (seriously, it could be something about a chicken walking into a bar – those jokes are _always_ hysterical).

Now, one would think that at seeing your Other, your Other's girlfriend, your Other's girlfriend's Other, your Other's best friend who tried to kidnap you twice, and a famous mouse king, you might be a little bit more surprised than what Roxas' reaction was. He blinked, and then managed a small wave. "Hey, you guys."

Understated? Hmmm, maybe.

Sora grinned slightly, even though he looked a tad bit more confused than Roxas should have at the moment. "Hey, Roxas. Um…surprised to see us?"

"A little bit." the blonde-haired Nobody admitted, as Axel closed the door behind him. "What are you guys doing here? This is a…" He trailed off, not quite sure how to put it.

"We're borrowing this music room for an hour or so," Axel jumped in.

Kairi quickly snatched the sheets of the duet off the piano and held them up. "Practicing for the callbacks?"

"Yeah, actually."

Naminé took a step forward, and frowned at Roxas. "Roxas, I thought you said that this was stupid. When this all began, you thought it was silly."

Roxas blushed a bit. "Well, not anymore." He glanced at Axel, and smiled a little bit. "It's different now."

A few seconds of utter silence passed (well, except for where Kairi was playing keepaway with Lexaeus, hiding the music sheets behind her back and dodging the Nobody's grasping hands).

Riku looked towards the ceiling. "Now what?"

"Well…how about you guys leave so we can practice?" Axel suggested with a smile, gesturing towards the door. "After all, callbacks are in just a couple of days, and Larxene and Demyx have it out for us." He crossed his arms. "Though…it's just singing after all. I don't want this to end up in a competition."

"It's just us being…us."

"Believing in ourselves."

"And overcoming all odds."

_That_ was the final straw.

Five minutes later, Axel and Roxas were bound and gagged in chairs on opposite corners of the room. Kairi had proved that she didn't need a girly keyblade (with SPARKLES AND FLOWERS AND STARS!!1!1!1) to kick some Nobody butt – she simply threw the sheet music into a nearby closet and, after Lexaeus ran in to get them, slammed the door shut on him and locked it. Naminé had clapped in approval (she had used similar techniques on Marluxia – except she often threw his rosebush in whenever he demanded to know when she was going to draw her next Georgia O'Keefe painting).

Now left up to their own devices, the trio, Naminé, and King Mickey mulled around the piano, trying to figure out exactly what to do next. Sora pretty much thought they were all screwed, and said so aloud.

Kairi nodded, absently playing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" as she tried to think of some way to get out of this mess. "I don't get it. It's total role reversal. The Organization is all happy and optimistic and cheerful and _we're_ the ones moping around?"

"Well, except for Demyx." Sora perked up slightly. "Hey, that reminds me…your Majesty, exactly why didn't the Disneyfication spell work on Demyx?"

King Mickey laughed. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about that. Well, it's simple really. For one thing, he knew about it before the rest of the Organization did, even Xemnas. I sent him a note sayin' some trouble was a-brewin'."

"Eh?"

"He told me later he had to read it somewhere private so the others wouldn't know he was gettin' letters from me."

"Somewhere private?"

"So _that_ explains why he was in the pantry," Lexaeus called helpfully from the closet. Sora, Riku, and Kairi, who, of course, had no idea what Lexaeus was talking about, chose to ignore him.

But since there's more exposition involved…

"Okay, and the second reason?" Riku asked.

"Well, the second reason is because there isn't really much to Disney-fy about Demyx. He has the least angst of all the other Organization members combined." Which, of course, makes complete and utter perfect sense. You can't frost a cake that's already been eaten…or some clever analogy along those lines. King Mickey jumped from the piano bench he had been sitting on next to Kairi, and approached Roxas. "You, on the other hand, were the last one to fall under the spell, because you carry eighty five point six percent of the Organization's angst on your shoulders."

Roxas would have said something – in fact, he actually did – but whatever it was was muffled by the maraca Sora had stuffed in his Nobody's mouth. So all Roxas did was rattle.

As Roxas rattled away (and Sora absently hummed "La Cucaracha" under his breath), the door swung open and a very ticked off Larxene was pushed inside the classroom but a slightly hesitant Demyx. And, of course, it is time for costume description: the Savage Nymph was wearing a fitted white jumper, black leggings, and matching red leather boots and belt.

Sora and Riku stared.

Naminé doodled her little hands off.

"How dare you push me! You better be glad you're my brother, or I swear, I'd…" the blonde young woman trailed off, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the scene in front of her. "Wait a second – I thought Axel and Roxas were supposed to be in here singing." She spun on Demyx, and stuck a finger in his face. "What do you know that I don't know? And you know that I do know a lot so what you do know better be something important."

Sora and Riku stared.

Demyx waved his hands in front of his face. "Uh…Larxene…watch where you're pointing – I don't want to be electrocuted today."

"Hmph."

Kairi looked over the edge of the piano, and smiled wanly. "Hey, Demyx. Um…as you can see, we haven't had much luck."

"Where's Lexaeus?"

"In the closet."

Demyx opened his mouth, and then shut it, as he realized that Kairi was talking about a literal closet. He blushed slightly, and then flopped down onto the nearby risers. "Okay, then. What do we do?"

"Wait! You're in cahoots with them?"

"Did she say 'cahoots?'" Sora asked hesitantly. Riku nodded (although he was currently thinking that Larxene could probably pass as a sixties go-go dancer if she fixed her hair in a bouffant…don't even ask why Riku was thinking these things).

King Mickey hopped over to where Demyx was sitting. "Do ya think you could get the other Organization members in here? This might take awhile."

Demyx sighed, and then nodded. "Yup. Just as long as you know if they kill me, or string me up on the flagpost, this is _so_ your fault." And with that, he ran out of the room, leaving our trio of heroes, Naminé, and King Mickey with two bound and gagged Nobodies, a prima donna Nobody who conducts electricity, and a Nobody currently stuck in the closet.

Somewhere in the KH universe, a fanfiction was born.

oOo

In the Higher-Ups headquarters, the Important Happy Higher Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things had listened to about one sentence to the girl's explanation before cutting her off with a wave of his hand.

"Are you going to basically say that you don't want to do this?" He said with a bright smile.

"Not really. If you had let me finish–"

"No need," the Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things said, before gesturing to the contracts. "We have a big afternoon ahead of us, so it's about time we got started."

"Y'know," the youngest boy said absently, briefly shooting the older girl a pointed look, "if we ended up helping you guys, some _people_ we know would be out of a job." The girl's eyes widened as she got the point, and quickly sat back down, and pulled out her phone, dialing surreptitiously underneath the table. "And that would suck."

"It's only the natural way of things."

"Sooo…" the brown-haired man drawled with a smile, "You'd rather win over the fangirls and lose the tweeners?"

The Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things laughed good-naturedly. "With this plan, the two will become interchangeable. We will win not only the fangirls, but the tweeners will flock to us once they've found out that you are all involved." He winked at the blonde who had driven the car earlier. "Especially you."

"Oh, great," came the unenthusiastic response.

"But what about the others?" the older girl pressed. "What would happen with them?"

The Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things smiled secretively and sat down at the head of the table, folding his hands over his stomach. "We own them. We can decide what to do with them."

"'Decide what do with them?'" the youngest girl said with a frown. "What does that mean exactly?"

Conspired smiles were sent across the room. "Well, you shouldn't really worry your little head about it. I mean…it's just marketing after all. We already have dominated every teen magazine in America, and soon, with the help of the Organization, we'll have the power of the fangirls behind us too."

Ten seconds passed.

Five more seconds passed after that.

And for the heck of it, two point five seconds passed after _that_.

Then, very slowly, the oldest of the younger people quietly asked, "Did you say the _Organization_?"

Now, if you can recall back to when you were very young and your mother caught you burning your Barbie dolls in the bathtub with your Uncle Bob's lighter, and then henceforth drowning them by sticking their heads down the drain all while chewing on a plate of oatmeal chocolate chips cookies that your mother had wanted to save for the neighbors who just moved in next door even though they would end up burning holes in your grass with firecrackers from the fourth of July a few months later…if this has ever happened to you, then you'll know the look that appeared on the face of the Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles a Lot and Plots Devious Things.

Yup, He had let The Secret slip.

"You're planning on Disney-fying the Organization!" the youngest girl exclaimed, bouncing to her feet.

"And taking over _Kingdom Hearts_!" the youngest boy added on with a laugh.

"I am not! That's completely ludicrous!"

The oldest boy smiled, dark brows knitted in thought. "And in order to get Sora, Riku, and Kairi to become your main characters, you needed us to sign those contracts."

"And when they didn't finish, you decided to take the easy way out," the younger of the two blonde young men stated. "And probably destroyed the fourth wall while you were at it."

"Stop this instant!" the Man exclaimed (while still somewhat jovial), and climbed to his feet. "Such insubordination. I'll have to change some portions of your contracts – add at least another twenty-five pages to make sure such accusations aren't done again."

"There's just one little problem with that," the oldest girl said with a smile, and at that moment, she held her phone up. "Because a certain someone who originated the role of Troy Bolton just heard this _entire_ conversation."

Outside, Godzilla destroyed Los Angeles.

Well, not really, but if he had, nobody in the room would have noticed, because all eyes were locked onto the phone. It was once again, one of those really nifty new ones that has all the keys on the keyboard on it, and a screen for taking pictures, and surfing the internet, and sending text messages, and playing really awesome games and listening to ringtones – and even more amazing, you can actually _call_ people on it!

And this one had a speaker phone on it.

"Hey, Zac," the older girl said in her sweetest voice possible. "Did you hear of all that?"

Five minutes later, the room was as it had been only a few minutes before: locked and with the group of six sitting around the table, looking a bit impressed with themselves.

"Well…that was cool."

"We're locked in here again, in case you haven't noticed."

The youngest girl pulled out another piping hot latte from what seemed like midair and smiled casually. "They have to run damage control. That should take a good two or three hours–"

"Or days."

"–until then, we have plenty of reading material," she finished, gesturing to the huge thick contracts that still lay in front of them.

Crickets chirped somewhere.

And then the table collapsed on itself.

oOo

Sora did not like the way the Organization was currently eyeing him. Okay, so sure they had some unfriendly encounters in the past (or the future – stupid nonexistent continuity in fanfiction), and sure he had sent some of them back into the nothingness where they belonged (had? Has? Would do so soon? Argh). But still…did they all have to look at him so…_strangely_?

Or maybe it was the fact that he told them that they had been Disney-fied.

Demyx had managed to gather the entire Organization without the crew sensing a thing (an awesome feat that would earn Demyx ten gold stars when they got back to the World That Never Was), telling them something along the line of "helping the children" and "saving Free Willy".

Whatever he did, it worked.

So, now the Organization sat or stood in front of them (well, except for Axel and Roxas, who were still bound and gagged in opposite corners of the room, and Lexaeus, who was still locked in the closet), and Sora had explained to them everything he knew about the evil plot to corrupt and make goodness-and-light out of the entire group.

He had then been met with blank stares.

"Little dude, I think your head is screwed on too tight," Xigbar noted. "You're acting like being angst-free is a bad thing."

Sora frowned. "Well, it's not a _bad_ thing. But you guys are supposed to be the villains, the bad guys."

"And bad guys don't sing?" Zexion asked curiously.

"Bad guys?" Xaldin asked with a frown. "I think you've been reading way too many comic books, young man. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to prepare for a championship game. Our team needs practice." He glanced down at the clipboard he held in his hand, and then gestured towards Axel. "Luxord, would you please untie him?"

King Mickey sighed, and jumped to the forefront, stopping Luxord in his tracks. "Now I know this may seem a little difficult for you guys to believe, but we're tellin' you the truth! You're just gonna have to believe us!"

"I don't think so," Larxene noted, examining her nails in a bored fashion. "I don't take advice from talking mice in black cloaks."

Riku rubbed his temples wearily. "There's got to be an easier way to do this."

Naminé, who had been sitting near the back, quietly sketching away in her notebook, stood up suddenly and walked to forefront. "Maybe there is." She glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of every single one of the Organization members in room (well…except for Lexaeus, who was still in the closet). "You all know that I draw."

"Duh," Luxord noted. "But what does that have to do with–"

Naminé ignored him. "And a lot of stuff I draw that is connected to Sora comes true."

"What's your point, young lady?" Saïx asked with a bored look.

Naminé smiled very shyly, and then held her notebook up to her chest. "Well…you're all connected with Sora. And, we're all connected because of that. And…that's a lot of people. Which means…"

Kairi's eyes suddenly widened as she realized what her Nobody was planning to do. "Naminé, are you sure you want to do this?"

The blonde witch smiled. "I'm positive." She turned back to the group. "Which means that if we exist in this universe, chances are we're all involved in some sort of pairing." She opened her notebook and poised her pencil threateningly. "And if you all decide to keep going through with this, I will draw every single pairing I can think of, and you're all going to spend the rest of your lives in high school, singing showtunes, and being hopelessly in lust with whoever I pair you with."

Utter and complete silence.

The shocked looks on the faces of the Organization would have been comical – no, it was definitely comical. Naminé was pretty much suggesting that she was going to make every fangirl's wish come true with a flick of her wrist.

"Wow…you really are a Nobody," Riku finally managed. "That's just…heartless."

Naminé placed the tip of her pencil down on the paper. "Now, who's first?"

She never got the chance to even draw a squiggly line because at that moment, Sora shouted, "Arcs Arcanum!" and his keyblade went flying out of his hand, only to smack each of the spellbound Organization members in the back of the head. Each time someone got hit, they would blink, and their high school costumes would immediately transform back into their black Organization coats (which involved thousands of dollars worth of CG-awesomeness). They keyblade also managed to slice and dice the binds from around Axel and Roxas (because it was just that handy), before the flying keyblade, like the uber-boomerang that it was, returned to Sora seconds later, and he grinned triumphantly. "That works too."

Of course, he hadn't suspected that being hit upside the head with a keyblade, while serving to knock the Organization back to their senses, did nothing to ingratiate the keyblade bearer to any of them.

So, while Sora attempted to dodge all attempts on his life as the Organization pounced on him, Riku, Kairi, and King Mickey sighed. "Well…he does have good ideas sometimes," Riku noted, and winced as Sora barely dodged an electrified dagger sent buzzing past his head. "Of course, usually, most times they do end up like this…"

"Well, this isn't as bad as the time with the lampshade and the puppy…" Kairi mused. "Or the Chinese finger trap. It took both of us to save Sora from that one…"

"Oh, yeah."

King Mickey glanced at Naminé. "Do you think you can get them to stop?"

Naminé nodded, and quickly began to sketch.

A few seconds later, eight anvils (made by Acme, of course) dropped from the ceiling and crashed to the floor. All eyes turned to stare at Naminé who only blinked innocence, and went back to drawing…things…in her notebook.

Sora, out of breath, collapsed on one of the risers next to Demyx. "Hey, I just saved you guys from fangirl hell. Don't I get a bit of thanks?" There was _much_ glaring (or, as they say in Spanish, mucho glaro). Sora shrugged. "Fine, then. Don't thank me. See if I care. Losers."

Roxas approached the group, and crossed his arms, his face was again the perfect copy of a rock (though rocks sometimes tend to have a little bit more expression than the blonde keybearer – have you seen Mount Rushmore lately?). "You think that it's over?" Kairi shook her head.

"Probably not." She glanced towards the decimated fourth wall. "If I'm not mistaken, there's still a lot left to do."

The narrator refuses to comment this late in the game.

"How about we blow this place, and then burn it down?" Axel suggested with a smirk, a small ball of flame appearing in his palm. "Destroy the crew's equipment piece by piece."

"I'd rather take Ralph apart piece by piece," Larxene seethed, electricity dancing around her. "See what he's really made out of."

"We could just abandon everything," Marluxia murmured thoughtfully. "After all this, why do we have to finish it?"

"Hey, we're not leaving without _something_ blowing up."

"Maiming is good too."

"I prefer dismemberment."

"Wait!" Sora shouted. All eyes turned to face him again, but the blue-eyed young man was not about to get chased again. He climbed to his feet, and crossed his arms. "Unless you guys want to get sued, you have to finish this. Legal binding contracts and all that."

Luxord raised an eyebrow. "You're joking. After all that, you want us to put on a big finale?"

"Yeah," Sora said bluntly. He took a deep breath and then grinned, placing his hands behind his head. "I've got an idea. But this is only going to happen if we all work together." He winked at the group. "Now who's with me?"

A few seconds passed, and then, Kairi and Riku nodded. Naminé smiled her inclusion, and Demyx raised his hand. Then, slowly, but surely, the rest of the Organization joined in (including Lexaeus, who even though was still in the closet, had somehow gotten smacked in the head with the keyblade, and even though he did raise his hand, no one could see him anyway…oh, well).

Sora grinned. "Okay, then. This is what we do…"

oOo

**Author's Note** (19 June 2007): Well, I bet some of you are wondering – why wasn't this updated during the weekend? Reason one: no internet connection.

Reason two: …well, simply put, I was distracted by Marvel's _Civil War_. And the _Fantastic Four_ (which was a lot better than _Spiderman_, in my honest opinion…loser Spiderman). And other wonderful superheroes…which have spawned yet another KH plot bunny that has joined its brothers and sisters in the basement, eating carrots and leaving poop pellets all over the place. Seriously, there are too many of them – make them go away! Or I'll have to needlessly declare war against them!

There's only one chapter left (and the mysterious six will be identified)! And then the epilogue! I'm so happy! And yes, I have decided to do a sequel. My (huge) cast list is finished, and the themes for this one are running through my head. Want a hint as to what the sequel is going to be? Hmmm…okay, well – it's not _High School__ Musical 2_. In fact, it's not a musical at all – but I can guarantee that everyone knows what it is.

Well, that's all for now. See you all in the final (explosive?) chapter of **This is Not High School Musical**.

Reviews rock like the fishies!

- Nashie


	15. Go

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: Excuse me while I go into last chapter shock. ZOMG THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER AND I FINALLY OWN KINGDOM HEARTS!1!1!!!! Well…not really. I mean, it is the last chapter…but I don't own Kingdom Hearts. But one day, Squeenix and Disney – I'm warning you. When I get a hold of this game, I will rock like the fishies!

And without further ado, the final chapter of a really long and crazy ride.

oOo

Ralph was ninety-four point two percent positive that _something_ was not right.

No, change that.

He was actually ninety-four point seven percent positive that something was not right. After all, that pancake incident this morning should have counted for something other than a fight in the cafeteria over the last bit of gooseberry syrup that had taken an hour to clean-up. Heck, before that incident, he hadn't known that Nobodies even liked gooseberry syrup, let alone would actually get into a fight over it.

Then again, if they really were Disney-fied, then he supposed that something that strangely cute and ludicrous would be the staple of their actions from now on.

Ralph just couldn't figure out how, even though he had been sitting behind the cameras, most of the food from the food fight had ended up on _him_.

As he sat down in his director's chair (in a change of clothing, of course – it wouldn't do to appear on set covered in gooseberry syrup, muffin mix, and a cherry on top of his head), he wanted to thank whatever higher powers decided to make these last few days of shooting relatively uneventful (well, if the food fight in the cafeteria counted as uneventful…or that still unexplained fire in the boy's locker room…or that random Cabbage Patch kid that sat in Xigbar's chair in the principal's office…).

Ralph was about to begin calling for actors to take their places when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around with an annoyed look, only to wipe it off his face in a flash when he realized that the person standing behind him was the Organization's seventh member.

"Uh…hello, Saïx."

The golden-eyed Nobody frowned at him. "Ralph, we seem to have a few discrepancies with the stage."

"Um…what?"

Saïx glared at him, and Ralph was pretty sure he and his future children (could Nobodies even have children?) would be dead if that old saying about looks and being dead was true. "The stage is inadequate. If my students are to perform my _Twinkle__ Town_ musical, then I demand a stage that is more fitted to a theatrical performance."

"But…we're not actually going to be putting on that musical…" Ralph tried to explain. And let it be known that yes, he indeed try to explain this little factor to the berserker, but alas, our resident pseudo-lunatic was having none of it.

"Excuse me, but did you just say that we will not be putting on my musical?"

"Yes, actually…"

"Then what are all these auditions and petty cat fights for?"

"Well, it is a movie…"

Saïx frowned. "I see. And you intend to do nothing about this?"

Now, before Ralph gives his answer, let us consider one thing: saying "no" to the berserker of the Organization does not exactly bode well for a person's future health…also known as the continuation of their life. Saïx has been known to injure, maim, throttle, pummel, mutilate, and pretty much be a meanie-head to anyone who tells him that he can't do something. Well…except for maybe the Superior, who, when asking Saïx to jump, the blue-haired Nobody would respond with, "To what level of height would that require me to attain?"

Anyway, back to the conversation at hand…

Ralph decided to not risk his luck, and simply told the drama teacher wannabe, "I'll tell some of the crew to get on it right away."

As Louis Anderson would say, "Good answer! Good answer!" (Although answering "a shaved cat" to a category entitled "Things People Take with Them To the Dentist" is probably _not_ a good answer…).

"I need mostly crew who know how to work the electronics of the stage. We need lights. Lots of them."

"Um…okay. I'll send them over during the callbacks."

Saïx must have deemed this a good enough answer, because he nodded his head curtly and then swept away, nearly smacking Ralph in the face with his scarf (because all good theatre directors wear scarves…and that beret thing…and tiny colored glasses…uh…right…). Why was it, Ralph thought to himself, even when the Organization was completely Disney-fied, they still managed to scare the flaming fishsticks out of him? It was an unfair factor of life – just like fishsticks themselves.

Ralph glanced at his watch as most of the cast begin to gather in the classroom. It was finally time to shoot the day of the scholastic decathlon and the basketball game and the auditions and…it was about time. Ralph was pretty sure he had been about to join AA if the Higher-Ups plan wouldn't have kicked in – though a whiskey did sound good about now.

"Roxas!" Ralph called, gesturing for the blonde Nobody to come back behind the cameras. The keybearer approached him with a raised eyebrow – Ralph frowned inwardly (wasn't he supposed to be HAPPY?). "Have you seen Larxene and Demyx?"

"No – I think they were putting in more time with the choreographer," Roxas said with a shrug. And then he smiled brightly. "You know that they want to get their dance down perfectly. I'm almost jealous."

Ralph sighed. "Well, I wish they'd hurry up or we're going to be – "

"Sorry we're late!"

Yes, there is something spectacularly awesome about being fashionably late.

Larxene and Demyx swept into the room, almost wearing identical outfits of mahogany-and-white shirts and blue jeans. Ten seconds later, one of the crewmembers realized that his camera was malfunctioning slightly, read: had completely shut down on its own accord. Of course, failing to put two and two together, he decided to take it to the Best Buy around the corner to have it fixed.

A few moments later, the scene began.

One would think that on a day of so many activities that the group in front of them would be slightly more panicked – but alas, it was not to be. Axel peeked into the classroom, and then turned to grin over his shoulder, waving his other teammates in. The basketball team was dressed in their red-and-white jogging outfits (uniforms? Costumes? Whatever the heck they're called?), and were currently in possession of a "_pi_" pie.

What a _great_ pun. (Even though the narrator personally thinks that the "_pi_" pie looks like a "_pi_" cake, but whatever…)

"Surprise!"

Roxas and Marluxia blinked as the cheerfully-frosted (_cheerfully-frosted_?) cake was placed on Roxas' desk. Roxas laughed. "Wow – that's cool. Did you make it, Zexion?"

The gray-haired Nobody shrugged. Axel poked him and nodded towards the cameras. Zexion sighed, and then nodded, allowing himself to smile a little bit. "I did. Do you like it?"

"It's creative."

"Is it edible?"

"…"

"Well, we made something for you guys too," Marluxia noted, going over to the chalkboard with Roxas, and pointing out something that looked like…a lot of numbers and letters and arrows. Oh, and a stick figure guy. With a basketball. "Ta-da."

There was a long pause.

Luxord frowned. "It's…an equation."

Axel sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "We made you a cake, and all we got was an equation? Is this some sort of reminder that you guys are always going to be smarter than us?"

Roxas rolled his eyes, and then flipped the chalkboard around to reveal a cheerfully-painted (_cheerfully-painted_?) collage of a cartoon wildcat dunking a basketball into a hoop, with great big friendly bubble letters proclaiming "GO WILDCATS!"

And then there was much laughter and teasing and hugging and well-wishing.

Of course, after all that, because the team spirit was being riled up in everyone (go, school!), Axel and Luxord ran over to Larxene and Demyx, pulling them towards the door of the classroom. "C'mon, we have something to show you guys." Larxene frowned a bit in confusion, glancing back at Demyx who shrugged and followed the group to the door. They watched as the basketball club, who had somehow for no clear reason, imprinted letters on their shirts to spell out "GO DRAMA CLUB EXCLAMATION POINT". Well, perhaps, not the exclamation point, but it was a nice little add-on…the narrator guesses.

Saïx, who had joined Larxene and Demyx at the door, frowned, and then adjusted his tinted-glasses. "Well, it looks like we all have school spirit today."

Demyx made a face. "Wait…I don't get it…the exclamation point doesn't have a sound…"

Larxene rolled her eyes.

Ralph, relieved that the entire scene had gone off without hitch, called, "Cut!"

And then there was much laughter and teasing and hugging and well-wishing.

Ralph blinked as everyone congratulated themselves on a scene well-shot, and then adjusted his collar slightly. Yeah, the Higher-Ups could Disney-fy the Organization all they wanted, but it was forever going to be creepy every time they laughed and teased and hugged and well-wished each other. In fact, the sugary sweetness of it all was enough to put that Strawberry Shortcake, Care Bears, and My Little Ponies crossover to shame.

And _that_ was saying a lot.

"Um…we'll meet you all downstairs for the last few scenes, okay?" Ralph called out, getting a bunch of affirmative nods and "uh-huh, sure"s from the gathered cast. The Executive Nobody-turned-unwilling director sighed, and then gestured the crew outside towards the first floor where the last few scenes would be shot. The extras, who understandably did not want to be left in the room with the most powerful Nobodies in existence…er…nonexistence…, took to flight as well, leaving only the gathered Organization members in the room by themselves.

As soon as everyone had gone, the smile slipped from Roxas' face and he put his head down on his desk, narrowly missing the cake. "This is _torture_."

"If I have to smile and wish anyone else good-luck one more time, I'm throwing myself off the roof of this building," muttered Axel as he collapsed in a chair.

Marluxia, taking a seat in front of Roxas, glanced at the "pi" pie (cake) and raised an eyebrow. "Is this really edible or is a prop?"

Zexion leaned against the wall. "It's edible."

"He planned on poisoning it and giving it to Ralph later," Demyx chimed in, joining the rest of the group. He took off his hat, and then ran a hand through his hair. "Axel, do you think you could help me burn all these hats later?"

"No problem. Right after I burn down this school."

At that moment, Sora, Kairi, Riku, and Naminé walked into the classroom. How they hadn't been spotted by any of the crew members or extras in the cast is irrelevant (and sort of unexplainable…lets just say they camped out in the physics classroom…after all, it's not like anyone ever uses _that_ room). Sora looked at the gathered Nobodies and sighed. "I'm guessing it's been going well?"

"Define well."

"Let's not do any more defining!" Kairi jumped in quickly, glancing heavenwards. There was only silence. Whew.

Sora crossed his arms, and began to chew his bottom lip. "Okay, so let's just review. Larxene, Demyx – you guys have the new audition down, right?"

Demyx sighed. "Yeah. Unfortunately."

Larxene scowled at him. "What do you mean 'unfortunately?'" Demyx "eeped" and quickly waved his hands in front of his face, changing his answer. The blonde young woman glared, and then rested her chin on her palm. "We have it down. And I put one of the crew's cameras out of commission." She smirked as she conjured up an electric spark.

"Uh…that's nice…" Sora turned towards his Nobody and his Nobody's best friend. The narrator would like to emphasize the "friend" part of that – no matter what all the random hijinks of previous chapters were, those two are only good friends…yup. Just two very good friends. Not good friends with benefits. Or any of those other nice little...oh, ahem.

Axel muttered miserably. "Before you even ask Sora, it's taken care of."

"Cool," the brown-haired keyblade master said with a smile, putting his hands behind his head. "Then that only leaves Saïx…" He spun around to face the berserker. And stopped. And stared. "Whoa…you're totally trying to be like Elton John right now."

Two point three seconds later, there was a nice Sora-shaped hole in the wall.

Axel cocked his head to the side. "The kid's got a point, Saïx."

Two point seven seconds later, there was a nice Axel-shaped hole in the wall next to the nice Sora-shaped hole in the wall.

Saïx removed his tinted glasses and then glared at the rest of the group gathered. "Would anyone else care to add to those remarks?"

Pointed silence.

"Good."

Sora limped back into the room, mumbling something about Nobodies with super-bad attitudes, but he quickly shut up when the blue-haired Nobody shot a look at him. "Never mind. Uh…you did get the extra crew you needed to revamp the auditorium, right?"

"Yes. I did."

"Great!" Sora grinned, quickly forgetting about his trip through (not _into_, mind you, but _through_) a wall. "Then this should be a piece of cake." He glanced at Riku, Kairi, and Naminé. "We'd better get out of here before Ralph comes up, looking for everyone."

"If he finds us here, we're dead," agreed Riku.

The three began to leave the room, but just as Naminé was leaving, she glanced back over her shoulder, hesitating slightly. Then, very quietly, she said, "Everyone – no matter what happens, just remember…this is what you're doing to get everything back on track. But…Sora, I think, wants you to have fun while you do it."

Larxene laughed. "Oh, don't worry. We will." She snapped her fingers, creating a few sparks of electricity. Axel smirked.

"Yeah, what's a grand finale without fireworks?"

…heaven help us all.

oOo

In the Higher-Ups' headquarters, life was only a box of Cap'n Crunch away from boring.

"They can't…_leave_ us in here, can they?" the youngest boy asked, as he glanced at his watch. "I mean, last time I checked, that's some form of kidnapping, right? And that's still illegal."

The oldest girl sighed, twirling a piece of her blonde hair and looking towards the uninspiring ceiling. "Probably. But then, again, we just threatened the Higher-Ups. I mean, did you see the look on His face? He was…um…happily glowering at us." She looked at her phone. "Well, at least he knows now what they were planning to do."

A few more minutes of silence passed.

"I'm hungry," the youngest girl noted miserably as she tossed her latte cup into the nearest waste can. "Can't they at least order us a pizza?"

"I still can't believe all this has happened in a day," the oldest of the young people murmured, sitting back in his seat and closing his eyes. "It's like we're caught in a movie."

"Or a really unrealistic story," the other blonde young man mumbled, getting to his feet and walking towards the door. He rattled the doorknob, only to find that yes, it was still locked. "This is the point where I say life is unfair."

"I thought it was supposed to get better when you weren't a teenager anymore?" the oldest blonde girl asked. "I haven't seen that happen yet."

"It never happens," the man said, opening one eye and glancing at the five young people. "Believe me. Life continues to get more and more unfair."

"Don't worry. You're old. We believe you," the youngest girl said with a simper.

The man rolled his eyes. "No respect at all for your elders."

The cheerfully-depressing (_cheerfully-depressing_?) argument would have continued had not the door opened at that moment, nearly sending the younger of the two blonde young men sprawling onto the floor. One of the many secretaries that worked in the headquarters walked in, smiled pleasantly, and then said, "Hello, everyone. I hope we haven't kept you waiting for too long. He would like to see you now."

"He's not going to kill us, is he?" the youngest boy asked cautiously.

"Why would you think that?" the secretary asked cheerfully, before gesturing them all out into the hallway. "There have been whispers of some major stuff going on, but we're not going to kill anyone. That stuff only happens in the movies."

"Death only happens in movies?" the older of the blonde girls whispered to the man. He just shrugged.

"I guess everything else is only figments of our imagination."

"Oh, like, aliens?"

"No, aliens are most definitely real. Haven't you ever seen _E.T._?"

oOo

To say that the crew was a bit busy was an understatement.

Since someone had the brilliant idea of shooting the entire film in real-time, sequence-by-sequence, the crew had to be split up into three different sections of the school: the gym, the auditorium, and the science classroom. Of course, with forces spread so thin, and the director only being able to go into one room at a time (even if he did have one of those little nifty dark portals…), something, one might have thought, was bound to go wrong somewhere.

And it did.

Unfortunately (fortunately?), it was in the script.

In the science room, the Decathlon team were all decked out in their white lab coats as their actor parents filled in the bleachers (well, filled in as much as possible considering this _was_ a Scholastic Decathlon meet). Roxas was trying to decide whether or not he should put the goggles on or not, and then decided, if anything exploded and scalded his eyes out, at least he wouldn't have to finish the movie.

Elsewhere, in the gym, the game had already begun. The cheerfully-cheerful (_cheerfully-cheerful_?! This is getting a tad bit ridiculous) mascot was pumping up the crowd with its rendition of the chicken dance (or what it the Macarena? Or worse yet, the chicken noodle soup – seriously, who names a dance after a cold remedy?).

The auditorium too was heading towards the beginning of the auditions. And since this is where Ralph was, let's stay here for awhile.

Backstage, Larxene adjusted her costume for the fifth or sixth time, checking in the floor-length mirror for any signs of discrepancies in the outfit. Demyx, who looked as if he were debating or not whether his hat was a good thing, was sitting across from her. After a few more minutes of her primping, "Larxene, you look the same as you did five seconds ago." Larxene waved her hand carelessly, and Demyx got a nice little shock for his comment. "Owwww…geez, what was that for?"

"Being stupid. Now shut up. If I have to wear this thing, I'm making sure I look good in it."

"Well, if half of the crewmembers die of nosebleeds, that'll be your clue that you're perfect, right?"

Larxene smirked. "I'd rather them not die before I can literally get my hands on them. Do you think they still have machines for quartering people?"

Demyx winced. "Ouch."

Out in the audience, Lexaeus approached Saïx, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. When he had originally seen what his character was supposed to wear for this scene, he had just about thrown his tomahawk into the costume crews' heads. But remembering that he was supposed to be Disney-fied, he had grudgingly given in, and now resembled an usher with a bowler hat.

He hated the hat.

"Do you have it?" Lexaeus whispered to Saïx. The berserker nodded, and pulled a CD out of his folder. "I still don't understand where Sora got this music from so fast."

"He's the keyblade master – he doesn't have to make any sense," Saïx murmured, tossing his scarf over his shoulder (whether he liked it not, scarf-tossing was almost addictive as Cloud-tossing). "Either way, make sure that you can play the music somewhere Ralph can't change it. I have a feeling he might be a little upset by it."

"You have a feeling?"

"Relatively speaking."

Lexaeus shrugged, as the rest of the divided crew finished setting up their cameras. Ralph glanced at his watch – time to start.

The handful of extras clamored into the room, and Saïx stood up, shuffling the papers on the desk in front of him. He cleared his throat, adjusted those Elton John-inspired glasses of his, and then said, "Casting the leads in a musical is both a responsibility and a joy. To all those seeking to…" he paused there, "…seeking to extend the wingspan of your creativity, I commend you, and encourage you to continue reaching for the sun, the moon, and the stars."

Then he glared at the surrounding extras, who all immediately began to clap at the little speech. Looking only slightly annoyed, he sat in the chair behind the desk. "Larxene? Demyx?"

It took around three seconds for the music to start.

It took around five seconds for Ralph to realize that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

The first hint that something was slightly off was when the music started. Ralph had, unfortunately, heard "Bop to the Top" more times than he cared to remember. He knew every little nuance of that insanely catchy dance song, and promised serious maiming of the person who wrote the stupid lyrics to it. (Seriously, "_Show some muscle / Do the hustle_"? Where did these songwriters learn to rhyme? Sesame Street?)

So when the first few notes seemed to…_slink_ out of the speakers than _pop_ out, Ralph began to frown. This wasn't the pseudo-Latin music of…oh…oh, no…oh, _no_…

"_Mucho gusto_."

"_Ay, que fabulosa_."

The blue feathered costume that Larxene was originally _supposed_ to wear for the song had obviously been misplaced (it had actually been destroyed – Larxene had been told she could do _whatever_ she wanted with the pop princess dress). Because what the Savage Nymph was wearing was _not_ sparkly, _not_ fun-bubbling, _not_…well, it certainly was _something_. The black dress with dark crimson edging, which tied around the neck and reached to a length that was neither appropriate for a Disney movie nor any high school in the world, was _extremely_ fitted, until it reached the waist, where it began to flare out.

It was the perfect compliment to Demyx's outfit, which consisted of a dress shirt the same shade of crimson, which was unbuttoned at the collar, a pair of black slacks, and suspenders that hung loosely at his sides. To compliment all that was a fedora tilted at just the right angle to scream "SEXY!11!!!!!!1!"

The narrator believes that the Higher-Ups (and probably a number of parent groups) were going to be a little bit upset with this.

Ralph could only gape.

"_I believe in dreamin' / Shooting for the stars_," Larxene sang with a perfectly wicked grin on her face. Y'know, the same grin corporate television people tell you right before they announce a certain ridiculously popular pointless talent show would be renewed for ten more years.

"_Baby, to be number one / You've got to raise the bars_…"

Saïx frowned a bit, turning to face Lexaeus. "That's not…"

The Silent Hero sighed and nodded, "…the lambada? Yes. Yes, it is."

Ralph blankly noticed that everyone else in the crew had copied his slack-jawed look – not only because Larxene and Demyx actually made the dance look good, but the fact that, like what happens after many Latin dances take to the air, _especially_ the infamous forbidden dance, the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to climb a few degrees...

"_Work our tails off everyday / Gotta bump the competition / Blow them all away_!"

_So that's what Roxas meant when he said they were spending extra time with the choreographer_, Ralph thought numbly as he watched the pair's fancy footwork and other…er…body work…

_Oh, I am _so_ dead_.

In the back of the auditorium, Naminé and Kairi watched the entire audition with something akin to amusement. Well, Kairi did at least – Naminé was drawing in her sketchbook.

"They're really good, don't you think?"

Naminé nodded. "It looks like Sora's idea might work."

Kairi giggled. "Well, there's a first time for everything." She glanced at the clock that sat high up on that far wall. "I just hope they weren't too late. This isn't going to mean much except days of reshooting if they don't manage to convince the Higher-Ups to pull out…" She then glanced over at her Nobody, and got a thoughtful look on her face. "Naminé, what in the world are you drawing?"

"Pictures."

"Uh-huh…I see that. Pictures of what?"

"Blackmail."

"…are you sure you're my Nobody?"

Naminé simply smiled and continued to doodle.

oOo

Elsewhere, the Wildcat Scholastic Decathlon team had just scored their first point of the round. Roxas had (illegibly) written a bunch of numbers and letters on the dry erase board (only to come out with the answer Emc2...hey, it _sounded_ smart), and his team cheered. Whether or not Roxas actually understood what he wrote is a matter to be discussed later…

As Roxas joined his other teammates at their designated table, Marluxia opened the laptop Zexion had given him earlier (with the simply instructions, "Just don't blow it up"). "Wildcats, it's time for an orderly exit from the gym."

Roxas glanced over his shoulder. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Marluxia pointed to the bright yellow Post-It note that Zexion had taped to the screen. "Simple enough." Roxas frowned at the Post-It taped next to Zexion's note, which had a little caricature of the Cloaked Schemer in full emo-pout. The blonde rolled his eyes.

"Axel."

Marluxia smirked. "It would seem." He quickly typed in the code, and sent the Wi-Fi signal. (Which makes the narrator wonder, if it is obviously _so_ easy to mess with the school wide computer network with a Wi-Fi virus, then why hasn't some kid uploaded one to make the entire school system shut down for an entire week?).

"Now what?"

"Now we wait for the call."

The call they were waiting for would be from Luxord, who glanced at the clock on the gym wall. The fact that their plan was going a little bit too closely to the script (there had been many glares at Sora when he had announced his ever-so-brilliant scheme) unnerved him only a little bit. Still…he sighed as he ran towards the opposite end of the basketball court as the other team gained possession of the ball – it made him feel as if they were still under the Higher-Ups' power.

Scary thought.

As for the basketball game, the other team (er…other random members of the cast) was doing remarkably well, considering that they were planning a competitive sport against three Organization members, one who wielded fire, the other who controlled time (a decidedly _unfair_ advantage in playing a timed game), and another who…well, did something rather important…but it had to do with a book, so whatever.

Whatever gripes they might have had would have to be griped about later because at that very instant, the scoreboard began to blink wildly (and once again, the narrator would like to note her astonishment over the fact that this simple public high school has an arena-like scoreboard…ah, well).

The basketball players halted in their game, and the fans (again, more of the extras who were decidedly less excited about this game than they should have been) looked around in confusion.

A grin crept onto Axel's face.

Luxord ran up to him, and gestured towards the door. "Go on. We don't have all day."

Axel rolled his eyes, and sprinted towards the door.

Luxord sighed, reached into the pocket of his basketball shorts, and pulled out a cellphone (why he would even be carrying a cellphone in the middle of…never mind – trying to comprehend the logic of Nobodies is completely pointless…goshdarn their emo-y, no-heart, woe-is-me shenanigans).

Luxord pretended not to hear the narrator's rant and called Marluxia. "It worked. He's gone."

On the other line, Marluxia nodded. "Alright. Then we're on our way soon." He clicked off his phone, and raised en eyebrow at Roxas. "Well?"

The blonde-haired keybearer said nothing, just let out a sigh of annoyance, before he closed his eyes and pointed towards a beaker that was beginning to…do something very strange. And by strange the narrator means the beaker was beginning to create a miniature mushroom cloud of doom.

Oh, yeah, never mess with chemicals and acids and stuff that reads HIGHLY FLAMMABLE on the lid.

Go, mushroom clouds.

oOo

In the auditorium, half of the crew had nosebleeds, and a good portion of the extras did too. Well, at least some of the extras that hadn't been turned into rabid fangirls and kicked into oblivion by an irritable Lexaeus.

Not that the pair onstage had noticed.

Seriously, it took some major concentration to actually do all those fancy hip movements, and twirls, and dips…though, one probably wouldn't be able to tell. A lot of the movements they were doing were probably forbidden in seventy-nine countries (well, except Sweden – then again, _everything_ is legal in Sweden).

"_Yeah, we're gonna bop, bop, bop / Bop to the top_…"

"_Wipe away your inhibitions_," Demyx glanced out in the audience, and saw the reaction that they were getting. He managed to hide a smile – so Sora's plan was working after all…

"_Stomp, stomp, stomp / Do the romp_…"

"_And strut your stuff_!" Larxene winked towards the cameramen, two of whom fell right out on the floor, while three others rushed out of the auditorium towards the bathrooms.

"_Bop, bop, bop / Bop to the top / Going for the glory / We'll keep stepping up and we just won't stop / Till we've reached the top / Bop to the top_!" The song ended as Demyx spun Larxene into a dip, and they both struck a pose.

Saïx and Lexaeus clapped politely.

The remaining crew and extras ran towards the bathrooms, in attempts to stop the flow of blood from their noses…and to…er…other places…

Larxene and Demyx watched them go, and, as soon as the auditorium had been abandoned except for those in on their plot (and the few unconscious members of cast and crew sprawled on the floor), the two blondes' outfits reverted back to their Organization coats, and they ran off stage into the audience.

Saïx stood up, raising an eyebrow. "That was like incest on stage."

Demyx shrugged, and scratched behind his head. "What can I say? It's the lambada."

As Larxene approached the cameras, her kunai already sparking in her hands, Lexaeus sighed and crossed his arms. His brow furrowed in though. "Though it makes you wonder – how did Sora, the champion of light and goodness and all those other things, know about this dance, let alone know how to do the moves for it?"

Silence.

"I think it's better if we don't ask," Larxene muttered, as she slipped her electrified kunai beneath the cameras, so that they were virtually invisible to anyone who wouldn't have actually looked under a camera, searching for…well…electrified kunai. "There. We're set."

A few minutes later, the crew began to filter back into the room, a little worse for the wear and a little flushed, but at least they were still alive…in a sense. Ralph muttered underneath his breath, and dared to glance towards the stage. He blinked. Larxene and Demyx were on stage, patiently waiting for the scene to continue. Ralph raised a confused eyebrow, "Dare I ask what that was all about?"

"Well," Larxene said enthusiastically, "we sort of thought that it'd be…_cooler_ if we were more authentic with the dance style. You like?"

"Um…I don't know if we'll get this past the MPAA…or the FCC…or maybe even Congress, actually…"

"It wasn't good?" Demyx asked, frowning.

Ralph rubbed his temples wearily. "Er…we'll talk about it later. Let's just continue the scene." He went to sit back in his chair, praying to whatever deity that hadn't decided to use him as the butt of some cosmic joke (yeah, Buddha was out) to please, please, please just let the rest of the filming go by without…er…certain incidents anymore.

Saïx walked up on stage to join Larxene and Demyx, the former who blew kisses out at the audience. "This is why the theatre excels, people."

"This is actually why the Pussycat Dolls excel," Lexaeus murmured to himself as he also climbed the steps to the stage.

Saïx looked onto the audience, a frown on his face. "Now, we only have one more pair for callbacks. Axel? Roxas?"

Silence.

Lexaeus glanced at his watch. "They'll be here."

"Well, we don't exactly have time to…"

"Wait!" The doors to the back of the auditorium flew open and a very familiar blonde and redhead came running down the aisle towards the front of the stage. "Sorry we're late!"

"We can sing, Saïx!"

The berserker shook his head as the two raced up the stairs to the stage. "The theatre runs on a tight schedule, you two. I called your names and no one responded. Now, if you'll excuse me, callbacks are finished."

"We were three seconds late," scoffed Axel, crossing his arms. "Please give me one instance when a high school musical, or any high school performance, has actually started right on time."

"…"

"He's got a point," Demyx admitted as the crowds from the basketball game and the Scholastic Decathlon began to flock into the auditorium. The group on stage looked out at the gathering crowds, and then turned to glare at the seventh member of the Organization. He glared right back.

"Well, either way, you don't have a pianist."

"I'm right here," Lexaeus said, raising his hand slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't run off stage in tears." He began to head towards the piano that had magically rolled itself onto the stage. Larxene glared at him.

"You really don't want to do that."

"I think I do."

Saïx shook his head, and began to shoo Larxene and Demyx off stage. "Let's just get this over with."

In the back of the auditorium, Sora and Riku joined Kairi and Naminé (it should be noted that Sora was wearing the mascot outfit…again, for no particular reason other than the fact that he was the keyblade master and could get away with things like that…he was just so darn cute). Sora nodded towards the stage. "How's it going? Did they manage to rig the cameras?"

Kairi nodded. "They did."

Sora sat back in his seat, holding the giant head of the mascot in his lap. "Well, then. All we have to do is sit back and watch."

Riku propped his chin in his hands. "Should be interesting."

On stage, Roxas was thinking the exact opposite thing.

The keybearing Nobody stared blankly out at the crowds, and then turned to glare at Axel. "We still have to do this? This is stupid." He gestured angrily with his microphone. Axel shrugged.

"Well, according to Sora, this won't even be on tape – so I guess you'll have to live with it." He winked. "Got it –"

"If you even _think_ about finishing that sentence, I'm shoving this microphone up your nose."

Lexaeus glanced out at Ralph, and, then quickly reached down under the piano bench to press play on the CD player – hey, the piano playing was a _Disney_ talent.

The first handful of notes for the ridiculously popular ballad drifted into the auditorium as the lights turned down low, and spotlight hit the two Organization members on stage. Roxas looked decidedly unhappy with the idea of still having to sing the stupid ballad in front of the stupid crowd. _Sora's plan better go off without a hitch_, he thought, glancing up at the spotlight.

"_We're soaring, flying / There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach_…" Axel quickly glanced offstage to spot some of the extra members of the crew Saïx had requested. He smirked.

"_If we're trying / Then we're breaking free_…"

At that moment, unbeknownst to anyone, the filming cameras died as Larxene waved her hand in their general direction, and cut off their electricity.

Ralph stared at the blank screen. "Oh, crap…" He quickly waved over some of his surrounding crew, and they began to mutter amongst themselves how to fix the problem. Unfortunately for Ralph, all of his crew who knew about fixing electronic devices were currently in the lofts of the stage, attempting to make "Breaking Free" the darn prettiest number of the show, with lots of awesome light changes and spotlights and other nifty things like that.

It would be around one and a half minutes before Ralph actually realized this.

Of course, he was missing the most awesome of awesome performances on stage. Once the chorus had started and the tempo had picked up, the song had immediately gone into concert mode. Whether Roxas liked it or not, he had stage presence (the narrator wonders why), and since at the moment it was their job to get into the song, he was doing a darn good job of it.

And of course, with Axel on stage with him, the extras who were fangirls were currently dying of happiness.

"_Can you feel it building / Like a wave the ocean just can't control_…"

"_Connected by a feeling / Oooh, in our very souls_…"

"_Rising till it lifts us up / So everyone can see / We're breaking free_," the pair sang to each other, the spotlights following them around the stage. It was a typical eleven o' clock number, but the British Navy be darned if the two weren't doing an amazing job at wowing the audience.

In the back of the auditorium as the song reached the bridge, Sora stood up and put the head of the mascot costume back on. "Looks like it's my cue." He gave the other three a thumbs up and then ran down the aisle as the extras began to stand up and clap along to the music. The keybearer glanced around, and then found who he was looking for. "Zexion!"

The gray-haired Nobody, who was still sitting in his seat and reading a book (_Breakfast at Tiffany's_, if anyone's wondering), and mostly ignoring the entire concert-like performance on stage, looked up. "Yes?"

"I'm gonna need the camera."

Zexion sighed, and reached into his pocket (once again, why he had Demyx's camera in his pocket while playing a basketball game is just very strange…but then again, this is the Organization, after all). "Here. Don't break it."

"Sure."

"Sora…"

"Okay, okay." Sora glanced over at the Ralph and the crew of Nobodies who had finally realized that they were going to need some serious help with fixing the cameras. Of course, trying to wave down the crew that were currently backstage was presenting a problem – with all the bright lights on stage and the spotlights on Axel and Roxas, the crew in the auditorium was pretty much invisible to the crew backstage and in the lofts.

"_More than you, more than me_…"

"_Not a want, but a need_…"

"_Both of us breaking free_…"

As Sora began dancing in the aisle in his role as East High mascot, one of the crew members ran backstage in an attempt to grab one of the crew members who knew about electronics. Larxene glanced over at the disguised keybearer, and crossed her arms. "This had better work."

Demyx sighed. "He just better not break my camera."

A few moments later, the crew member came running back out, with another one in tow.

"_And though the world can see us / In a way that's different from who we are_…"

Crap.

There was much cheering from the audience (yes – it _was_ a runaway pop hit). Most of the fangirls were probably eagerly awaiting the kiss that was staple of the original "Breaking Free" – unfortunately for the fangirls, Axel and Roxas were having none of that, and Roxas settled for a friendly punch to the shoulder from Axel.

Double crap.

Ralph frowned as he stared at the cameras, and the lights in the auditorium came back up. "We might need to reshoot that scene. We had some technical difficulties here." He paused as the rest of the crew came from backstage, congratulating themselves on a job well done. "But that was perfect, you two. Very uplifting and faith-strengthening and…" He trailed off as he pulled a kunai from beneath one of the cameras.

Slowly, he turned to face Larxene, who simply smiled at him. "Oops. I wonder how that got there."

"You didn't…?"

Larxene grinned wickedly.

Ralph wasn't quite sure what this meant (probably utter inexplicable DOOM but he was trying to be positive), especially when the East High mascot bounded up to him, dangling a camera from its hand. "Go, Wildcats!"

Then, Sora removed the mascot's head and grinned at the poor, unfortunate (doomed to all sorts of hell) director. "Hey, Ralph. How's it going?"

Ralph cursed the forces of Fate, Nascar, and the makers of Cheerios for his ridiculously bad luck.

oOo

There was a tense atmosphere in the room.

Well, not really, but doesn't it seem more dramatic that way?

The Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things sat behind his desk, his hands folded, and stared down the six people in front of him. "We seem to have conflicts of interest in regards to this project."

"No kidding," the youngest boy deadpanned.

The Man frowned cheerfully. "This was not supposed to come to the attention of the original cast."

"Oh, really?" the older of the girls asked, smiling innocently.

The Man looked a bit unhappy. "This is going to take a lot of explaining. And we can't exactly go back on what we've done."

"You don't say?" the oldest member of the six asked with a smirk.

The Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles a Lot and Plots Devious Things threw his hands up in resignation. "Fine. Tell me what you would like me to do."

All eyes turned to the youngest girl, who had just finished her latte (yes, by some miraculous power, she had obtained yet another one). She tossed the empty cup into the nearby trashcan, and then smiled at the Man. "Well, sir. With all due respect, we really have no place in the _High School Musical_ world. Even if it means world domination for you, the tweeners would never forgive you for taking away Zac and Vanessa and Ashley and Corbin and Monique and Lucas. In fact, they'd probably rip your throat out and feed to flesh-eating fire ants before burning your remains at the stake."

The Man winced jovially.

"Fortunately for you," the girl continued, "we have an idea on how to fix this. We got in contact with Sora and the others – "

The Man gaped. "You did what?"

"Yeah, and _that_ was a strange experience," the older of the blonde young men murmured, raising a dark brow in exasperation.

"Right," the youngest girl continued. "But we got a hold of them, and they've already warned the Organization. Which means, they've been un-Disneyfied." She shrugged. "Sorry."

The Man groaned happily. "And how do you suggest I salvage this? You seem intent on dragging this through the mud."

"Well…" The girl brushed back a stray blonde lock. "For starters, you can officially end this project."

"Let's face it," the younger of the blonde young men said with a grin and a shrug, "_Kingdom Hearts_ wouldn't exist without you guys. You really don't need to try to take over the Organization. They're already half Disney. And if you guys did manage to take them over, the fangirls would hunt you down and maim you."

"Don't forget the fanboys," the youngest boy suggested with a wink. "They're even worse because you would never suspect them. They're like…the masters of disguise."

"Really?" the oldest of the two girls asked thoughtfully. "I thought fanboys would be a bit more obvious."

"Compare a _Kingdom Hearts_ fangirl to _Kingdom Hearts_ fanboy."

"Oh. I see your point."

"Anyway," the youngest girl continued, "drop the _High School Musical_ project. Seriously. HSM doesn't need _Kingdom Hearts_ to win over people. _Kingdom Hearts_ is cool in its own way, and _High School Musical_ is…um…_different_ in its own way. Besides, _High School Musical_ is well on its way to taking over the world _without_ our help."

The Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and Plots Devious Things sighed, and rubbed his temples. "Well, I suppose that's true…hey, do you all think a television show about _High_ –"

"**No**."

(The narrator personally agrees.)

The Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and No Longer Plots Devious Things rubbed his chin and then got to his feet, beaming down at the group of mysterious six. "Well, I suppose you all have made a point. Of course, we're going to lose millions…"

"How? Your entire cast and crew is made up of Nobodies."

"Ah…that _is_ true, isn't it?" The Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and No Longer Plots Devious Things smiled. "In that case, I should probably tell Ralph that his services are no longer needed. And if the Organization is no longer under…ahem…contract, then I suppose they can go back to the World That Never Was." He paused. "And as for you six…"

The group winced.

"…I suppose you could go home," the Man said with a bright smile. "Until we need to record another Disneymania CD."

The youngest girl and the younger of the two blonde young men shared looks, and sighed. "Deal."

With that, the Important Happy Higher-Up Man Who Smiles A Lot and No Longer Plots Devious Things headed towards the door. "Now, let me go make some phone calls and reassure the original cast that they still have jobs…"

The door shut behind him.

The youngest boy stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Y'know, all things considering, I'm _still_ not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing…"

oOo

The auditorium was currently vacant.

Well, almost.

Ralph was sitting on the lip of the stage, his hands buried in his face as he muttered about the complete and total unfairness of all that is non-life. Sora (still in the mascot costume), Riku, Kairi, and Naminé also sat on the lip of the stage, trying somehow to comfort the distraught Nobody. That is, Kairi was trying to comfort him. Riku was simply being Riku and ignoring the whole situation, Naminé was drawing, and Sora was absently dangling the camera from his hands.

The rest of the Organization had departed back to the gymnasium, except for Axel and Roxas, were currently glaring at the unfortunate director.

"So, you're telling me I didn't record the breakaway pop hit," Ralph lamented.

"Uh…yeah. Pretty much."

"And you're blackmailing me with the pictures you took to give to the AkuRoku fangirls."

Sora grinned. "Yup. I guess I would be…"

Roxas leaned over and whispered to Axel, "I don't get it. What's an AkuRoku fangirl?"

Axel shrugged, never taking his eyes off Ralph. "I'm not sure. I think it has something to do with cheese."

Ralph sat up slightly, and turned to look at Sora. "Why do you want to get me in so much trouble with the Higher-Ups? I enjoy being alive…to a degree." Sora grinned and patted him on the back.

"It's nothing personal," he said. "It's just…well, I can't exactly lose my greatest enemies to the Higher-Ups, y'know?"

Ralph just buried his hands back into his face.

The back doors to the auditorium swung open and a very familiar mouse king bounded down the aisle towards the group at the front of the stage. Sora's face brightened. "King Mickey!"

"Hey fellas!" the royal icon exclaimed, waving at them. In his hand he held a slightly wrinkled note. "Good news! Vexen just sent it to me from the Stargate – it looks like they were able to convince the Higher-Ups to stop with the project. It's been completely called off!"

Sora let out a whoop of delight, Kairi clapped her hands eagerly, Riku smirked, Axel and Roxas shared relieved looks, and Naminé just continued to draw. Ralph looked aptly confused. "They called it off? Why?"

"I'm really not sure," King Mickey said. "But the Higher-Ups seemed convinced that they don't need to take over Kingdom Hearts anymore – technically, they already do own half of it."

"That's true," Ralph murmured thoughtfully.

Roxas glanced over at King Mickey. "Who managed to convince them otherwise?"

Riku laughed beneath his breath. "Who else would be close enough to feel the affects of what's going on, and then be able to change the Higher-Ups' minds?"

Axel blinked, and then grinned. "You don't mean–"

Kairi nodded. "Strange, isn't it?"

"I'll say."

Ralph glanced over at King Mickey. "So, that's it? We can just leave?" The mouse king thought about it for an instant, and then he nodded. He hadn't even gotten his head back up, than did Ralph revert back from his director outfit, to his executive outfit, expensive Italian briefcase and everything.

"About freakin' time." And without fanfare or warning, the Executive Nobody conjured up a dark portal and stepped through. "Give the Higher-Ups my regards." And with that, he was gone.

King Mickey sighed. "Well, at least he doesn't have to deal with this anymore." His ears perked up suddenly, and he began to head back towards the door. "I'm off to tell the others. I'll see you guys soon!" The king's departure left only our three heroes, Axel, Roxas, and Naminé in the now deserted auditorium.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Sora sighed a mournful sigh (well, as mournful as Sora's sighs can actually get). "I didn't get to use my blackmail."

Riku rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I swear, you and Naminé both…"

"Hey, do you guys get the feeling that something's unresolved?" Kairi asked after a moment, as the group began to head towards the door, and ultimately, the gym. "I mean, we saved the Organization, we stopped the Higher-Ups, and the fabric of the universe hasn't unraveled."

"It does feel like something's missing, doesn't it?" Riku asked as they walked down the hallway. "I don't think we missed anything though."

Everyone fell silent – it indeed felt like something was missing. Some major part of the plot, perhaps. Some tiny thing that they had overlooked.

It wasn't until they reached the gym and they had been reunited with the rest of the Organization members did Roxas actually realize what it was.

"Oh, man," he muttered as he watched some of the extras continue their game of basketball. "You guys – there was a moral."

Sora blinked. "What? Are you sure?"

Roxas sighed as he sat down on the nearest bleachers and rested his chin in his hands. "Think about it. We started off doing something that no one really wanted to do, something no one even thought we could accomplish. Then, we faced an obstacle that threatened to completely screw us over. But…"

Axel smacked his forehead. "But in the end, we managed to stay true to ourselves, and it all worked out for the best."

Dead silence.

"So…," Lexaeus said, a look of disbelief on his face, "you're saying that despite all of this, we still managed to make a DCOM after all?"

"Man, that blows," Xigbar said, making a face.

Larxene scowled. "Oh, that's just _perfect_."

Sora, though, was somewhat amused. "Hmph, it's kind of ironic. If the Higher-Ups had succeeded in making the movie, then it wouldn't have been a DCOM after all." He grinned, placing his hands behind his head. "Well, what d'ya know?"

The Organization glared at him.

Kairi quickly jumped in between the group, to keep her canon-boyfriend from ending up turned into a smashed mushroom. "Well, look at it this way – we managed to stop this entire production before the big final number. That's _something_, at least."

The Organization glared at _her_.

Riku sighed. "I think we should probably go."

Of course, Sora, being Sora, didn't take the hint or the suggestion. "_Here and now it's time for celebration / We finally figured out / That our dreams have no limitation / That's what it's all about_!"

"I can't believe you're doing this…" Kairi murmured, rolling her eyes. Sora winked at her.

"C'mon, we did a good job. I think we deserve a final song-and-dance number."

Kairi giggled, and shrugged her shoulders. "_Everyone is special in their own way / We make each other strong / We're not the same, we're different in a good way / Together's where we belong_."

Demyx poked Zexion. "How exactly do they know the lyrics?"

Zexion shrugged. "They're the main characters – they're not _supposed_ to make any sense."

Larxene frowned and got to her feet, her white cami and jeans reverting back to her Organization coat. "Well, I've had enough happiness and good cheer to last me the rest of my non-freakin'-life. I'm going back to the Castle." And with a huff of annoyance, she created a dark portal and stormed out.

Xaldin frowned. "For once, I agree with her."

And one by one, the rest of the Organization left, leaving only Sora, Kairi, Riku, and Naminé, and a whole bunch of extras dancing to the big final song. Well, technically, Riku and Naminé watched while everyone else sang about believing in themselves, and danced the most ridiculously catchy dance known to mankind.

Riku rested his elbows on his knees and sighed. "What a way to end a movie."

Naminé tapped her pencil against her chin thoughtfully. "Well, they had to have a big finale. It's the staple of every musical known to man."

"_We're all in this together / When we reach we can fly / Know inside we can make it_!"

Riku rubbed the back of his head. "Did you ever finish your pictures?"

"_We're all in this together / Once we see there's a chance / That we have and we take it_!"

The blonde witch smiled. "Do you want to see them?"

Riku laughed quietly, and shrugged. "Why not?" He gestured towards the rest of the dancing teenagers. "It's not like we'll be leaving anytime soon."

Naminé laughed.

"Well, that's Sora for you."

oOo

In Los Angeles, the mysterious group of six was currently hanging out at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf.

Talk about coming full circle.

It was late in the afternoon, and the streets of Los Angeles were starting to get busy with rush hour traffic. The group sat by one of the windows in the back, and watched as pedestrians walked by, not knowing that they were within feet of a group that had just saved the world.

Well, sort of.

"I could have sworn that after everything we did today we deserve a little bit more than some mochas and cappuccinos," the youngest boy said as he drank his whipped latte thingy that probably had a zillion calories and required an extensive amount of understanding of the Italian language to purchase. "I mean, we totally saved the Organization."

"Like anyone would believe us," the younger of the two blonde young men muttered, lowering his sunglasses slightly. "Hell, I don't even half believe it."

"Hey, did you ever get a hold of that guy again?" the man asked, blowing his dark brown bangs out of his eyes. The older girl blinked, and then laughed, holding up her cellphone.

"I did. The Higher-Ups kept their promise – the contract negotiations are completely through. The original cast is back on for whatever they decide to do next."

The youngest boy snorted. "I feel sort of bad for them. Child stars, and all that."

The youngest girl rolled her eyes, sipping her water (she was all latte-d out). "There's the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. I-See-Dead-People."

"Ouch," the man said with a laugh. "She's got you there."

"You got dissed by a cheerleader," the older of the two blonde young men said, rolling his eyes.

The younger of the blonde young men snorted. "A cheerleader who never cheers." The girl threw her empty water bottle at him.

"Oh, shut up, Jesse."

oOo

**Author's Note** (28 June 2007): Dear mother of flaming fishsticks, it's _done_. Well, okay, there's still the epilogue to do. But at least I hope you guys have managed to figure out the group of six. And, for all those who don't know how the lambada goes, check out YouTube.

I really don't have much to say, other than thanking everyone for their wonderful reviews, and favorites, and other great awesome things! The big mother of author's notes will be at the end of the epilogue, which'll be posted this weekend. Until then, everyone go read Marvel's _Runaways_ and _Young Avengers_, because they have sparked an idea for a KH AU fanfic.

Reviews are appreciated!

- Nashie

**Edit** (29 June 2007): I changed the last part a bit so that the identity of the six people would be a bit more clear.


	16. Epilogue: Screwed

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: I own the spiffy new laptop that I'm writing the epilogue from. Unfortunately, I still don't own Kingdom Hearts, and in all my heart's longing, I never will. Stupid copyrights and international legal systems.

oOo

King Mickey glanced up at the man who had come up from behind him. The man had been nearly silent in his approach, but it's very difficult to actually sneak up on a person (er…relatively speaking) whose ears were as big as plate saucers.

"Well?"

"The Higher-Ups are officially through with the Disneyfication plan," the man said with a smile. "Any future projects with the Organization – or anybody else from the games – are going to be done _with_ us. As it should be."

"That's great!" He paused. "What did you do with the angst sign?"

"I sold it on eBay to some guy name Kira." Oh, good old eBay. "By the way, I noticed that you managed to steal Demyx's camera. Don't want any pictures getting leaked onto the internet?"

King Mickey chuckled. "We already have Naminé to thank for half of those AkuRoku pictures on the net. I think we should spare the Organization at least _some_ embarrassment." He paused. "As long as a certain film didn't get into the hands of…?"

The man smiled and sat down next to the mouse king. "Don't worry. It's taken care of. I sold the film on eBay."

"…!"

"I'm kidding, Mickey."

The king blinked, and then laughed, abashed. "Well, gosh. I almost thought you were serious."

The man simply smiled.

A few seconds passed…

"You _didn't_."

"Technically, _I_ didn't do anything." The dark-haired man brushed invisible lint off his pants leg. "It wasn't even really my idea. Someone suggested it, and well…I didn't exactly stop their idea." He scratched his ear thoughtfully. "Though…hopefully, it'll be less traumatic than singing and dancing."

"_What_ will be less traumatic than singing and dancing?"

He told him.

King Mickey gaped, and then sighed. "I hope you fellas know what you're doing."

"Like I said, I have nothing to do with it."

"They're not going to be too happy. I mean…another project?"

The man nodded. "I figured they would be. Unfortunately for them, if they don't do it this time, someone's going to do it eventually." The shorter of the two rested his chin in his gloved hand.

"At least it's not _The Cheetah Girls_."

"There's that. We can't exactly have mass murder on our hands." The man grinned. "Look at this way, Your Majesty – at least this time, we'll make a lot of money?"

King Mickey sighed.

"This is going to be a disaster, isn't it – no pun intended?"

The man made a face. "How bad could it be?"

"Famous last words, Director-sama."

oOo

On Destiny Islands, a giant Sentinel stood on the beach.

Sora was beginning to hate crossovers.

"I swear, couldn't the narrator have gotten anything less conspicuous?" Sora asked, glancing up at the huge robot that loomed over them like a strangely overprotective parent made from wires and metal and other robotic things. "I promised we wouldn't run off again."

Riku snorted. "If I recall, that's what you said _last_ time." He then pointed to the Sentinel. "And that's why the narrator put that there to make sure we don't go anywhere."

"It's only a little bit intimidating," Kairi said with a smile, clasping her hands behind her back, continuing to look out at the bright blue tropical ocean. "I mean, if you get over the fact that it hunts down mutants, and is really only supposed to appear in Marvel comic books, then it's just like a giant pet robot."

"Yeah, try to explain _that_ to our parents."

Kairi frowned. "Canon, Sora?"

"It's still missing. Haven't seen it since the first chapter."

At that, Riku held up a slightly crinkled piece of paper in his hand. "Speaking of which, we still have this bill to pay." He sighed, running a hand through silver locks. "Though, I still want to know who in the world is in charge of sending out bills demanding payment for destroying things like the fourth wall."

"Exactly how would you put the fourth wall back together anyway?" Kairi mused thoughtfully. Sora snatched the bill out of Riku's hands and glared at it.

"How are we supposed to get all this munny? I don't exactly run a pawn shop."

Kairi tapped her chin. "We could go out and get rid of some Heartless and Nobodies. They always seem to be carrying money on them…I'm not entirely sure why, but…"

The trio of heroes fell silent as they tried to figure out how in the world they were supposed to raise money to build something that was supposed to imaginary in the first place (Sora personally thought that someone just wanted to jerk them around for fun, and glanced in the general direction of the narrator.) After all, they were just kids. With powers. And greater destinies. And other fun things like that. Yup, completely and totally normal.

The Sentinel glared.

As the three tried to contemplate (il)legal ways of getting the munny to pay off, Kairi noticed something float up on the beach. It was, how appropriate, in a bottle. She gestured to the two boys and pointed. "Hey, you guys! It's a note in a bottle."

"Why do those things always end up on _our_ beach at the exact right moment?"

"I want to know why they always end up on our beach at the _exact_ right moment to the _exact_ right person?"

Ignoring the idea of coincidence, the three ran down to the beach from Riku's island to pick up the bottle. The Sentinel watched them as they ran, but was instructed only to shoot lasers from its eyes if the brown-haired one decided to do something idiotic or against the narrator's wishes. The latter hopefully wouldn't happen, but as for the former…well, Sora _is_ Sora.

Riku knelt down to pick up the bottle, and opened it up, a rolled up piece of paper falling into his hand. "Doesn't this seem familiar?"

Sora wrinkled his nose. "You mean, the beginning of every _Kingdom Hearts 3_ theory fanfic on the web? Yeah, it does."

Kairi snatched the paper out of Riku's hand and placed in Sora's. "Then, we might as well read it that way. What's it say, Sora?"

The brunette unrolled the scroll, and his eyes scanned down the note, Riku and Kairi reading along quietly as well. As the letter progressed, a disturbed look was becoming more and more apparent on Sora's face. Kairi was beginning to turn an interesting shade of red, and Riku was beginning to look murderous.

After a moment, Kairi nervously glanced at her two best friends. "They're…not serious?"

"I think they are," Riku gritted out.

And Sora glumly summed it up for all of them, "We're screwed."

oOo

Back in the World That Never Was, life had gotten back to normal for the Organization. Well, as normal as it could possibly be considering that canon had still been thrown out the window (it should be noted that Xigbar had gone out to look for the missing canon, and actually had found it – unfortunately, it had been discovered by a bunch of Mushroom Nobodies who were in the middle of playing Kingdom Hearts charades with it, and they were so cute as they attempted to act out Xaldin's death scene, Xigbar just couldn't try to get the canon back.)

In the Kitchen of Oblivion, the "pi" pie/cake sat uneaten in the Refrigerator of Nada. For the first few days, the Organization ignored the vanilla and chocolate frosted cake, but after awhile, the temptation of an uneaten cake grew to be too much. First, one slice disappeared. And then two more. Then another…then another, and went Zexion came in a week after the production had ended, there were only one slice of cake left.

Zexion blinked.

Lexaeus, who was sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen, was eating the second to last slice, and shrugged at seeing Zexion's accusatory look. "This is the first piece I've had. You should probably ask one of the kids."

Kids: two certain blondes and a redhead.

"Did Xigbar ever find the canon?" Zexion asked as he took out the last slice of cake, tossing the plate the cake had been on in the Dishwasher of Distress. Lexaeus shook his head.

"He said something about Mushroom Nobodies and charades," the Silent Hero said between mouthfuls of "pi" pie/cake. "I don't know…I assumed it was another one of those things that's it better not to ask."

"Hmph."

At that moment, Larxene came storming into the Kitchen of Oblivion, and without saying hello, went directly to the fridge. She opened it, frowned, and then closed it, before turning to give the two other Nobodies suspicious looks. "You guys ate the rest of the cake?"

"It would be apparent," Zexion noted.

Larxene glared. "I was saving one of those last pieces for myself."

Zexion shrugged, and then pushed his plate over, fork and all. "Here. Take mine. I probably wasn't going to eat it anyway." Larxene frowned suspiciously at him, and Zexion refrained from rolling his eyes. "It's not poisoned, as far as I know. If it were, Lexaeus will probably die first."

The larger man gave Zexion an "oh, thanks" look before Larxene picked up the plate. "What kind is it?"

"Devil's food."

A slow smirk appeared on the blonde's face.

"How appropriate."

oOo

In another corner of the Castle That Never Was, Naminé had wandered out of her room to go find someone to talk to. Well, someone who wouldn't mind the fact that she still had lots of blackmail hidden in one of her sketchbooks (which she conveniently hid under her mattress – it's not like anyone ever slept around there). She still clutched an extra sketchbook in her free hand as she headed down the hallways, hoping that someone interesting was around to talk to.

She paused as she got to Roxas' room, and raised her hand to knock on the door when she heard a muffled thump from inside. Actually, make that quite a few muffled thumps, and then a groan of frustration. Curiosity peaked, Naminé put her ear to the door (yup, Naminé was definitely a fangirl) and listened in.

"How did you do that so quickly?"

"Easy - just because this is your first time doing it doesn't mean _I_ have to go slow."

"So you just randomly practice this by yourself for no reason."

"My reason is so that when you finally come in here, I can show you who's really boss."

Before that conversation could go even further down the drain, Naminé decided to announce her presence – but not by knocking. She just simply opened the door and walked in.

"Are you guys…?" Naminé trailed off. Obviously, she had caught Axel and Roxas at a _very_ bad time.

The redhead was sitting on the floor, his arms crossed and a look of shocked defeat on his face. Roxas stood next to him, a smirk of triumphant on his face, as he waved the Wii controller at Axel. "I tried to tell you that no one could beat me at tennis. I'm not the Nobody of the keyblade master for nothing."

Naminé blinked. "Are you playing video games?"

Axel scowled miserably. "No. I'm getting my butt handed to me by that blonde punk who didn't exactly give me fair warning that he's a pro at all things Wii."

Naminé glanced at the screen, which showed the huge difference in score between the two players in big, bold numbers. "Well, maybe if you practice a bit more, I'm sure you could win one day."

Roxas snorted. "Unlikely. His hand-eye coordination sucks."

"You, Blue-Eyes, are supposed to be my best friend."

"That doesn't really change the fact that you lost."

"This is a height thing, isn't it?"

Roxas huffed. "I am _not_ short. You are just abnormally tall."

Naminé cleared her throat. "Can I play?"

Axel and Roxas stopped dead in their argument and turned to look at Naminé, the sweet, innocent, blackmailing Nobody of one of the eight princesses of Heart. She smiled brightly, and, of course, no one could ever say "no" to Naminé (well, except whenever she asked to be let out the Organization's clutches, but that's part of the canon, which is still in the hands of the Mushroom Nobodies).

As the game began, no one noticed the big "Italian for Dummies" that magically appeared near the door.

oOo

"It doesn't make any sense!"

Vexen was irritated. Okay, so Vexen was irritated most of the time, but this time, he was really irritated. He was furiously writing down equations in his notebook, as if trying to figure out the meaning of life (which, the narrator believes, probably couldn't be solved by an equation).

Demyx walked next to him, eating a piece of the "pi" pie/cake, poking it occasionally with a fork. "What doesn't make sense?"

"How we ended up making a DCOM after all – that's what doesn't make sense. And the fact that you somehow helped saved everybody else."

Demyx shrugged. "I'm special, I guess."

Vexen snorted. "Special. That's one way to put it."

Demyx would have feigned hurt (he actually made a hurt noise), but his mouth was currently full of devil's food pie/cake, so he had to settle with glaring. He quickly chewed and swallowed. "It doesn't matter anyway. I mean, everything's done, nothing's been irreversibly destroyed…well, I suppose the high school being blown up would be considered some serious property damage…and the Stargate that was inside probably cost a lot too…"

The blonde scientist frowned. "When did the high school blow up?"

"Huh…oh. Axel went back and blew it up. I think he took Roxas with him." The musician scratched his head. "Though I suppose that would explain the fact that the "How to Hide a Mushroom Cloud" book was gone from the library…"

Vexen said something about an Organization of imbeciles under his breath, but Demyx didn't quite catch him. He finished off the last of his cake, and then tossed the now empty plate into a nearby trashcan (for those environmentally-conscious, let's just say it was recycling bin). He sighed, and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. His fingers brushed against something, and he frowned, before pulling out two notecards.

"'Don't fall into character,'" he murmured as he read the first card. He frowned, and handed the note to Vexen. "Hey, Vexen. Does this mean anything to you?"

"Probably a reference to some previous chapter," the scientist shrugged.

Demyx made a face and tossed the notecard into the nearby tras…er, recycling bin (which seemed to be following them around). He then looked at the second notecard, reading it beneath his breath. After a few seconds, he scratched the back of his head, and handed the piece of paper to the other blonde. "Hey, Vexen."

"What now?"

"I don't get it."

The scientist groaned, and snatched the piece of paper from the younger blonde's hand, quickly reading over it. As his eyes scanned over the words, a dark, murderous look crept onto his face (which was more dark and murderous than it usually was).

After a few seconds of silence, the Chilly Academic cursed very loudly and then shoved the piece of paper back in Demyx's direction. The musician quickly caught it, stunned, as the other Organization member began to storm down the hallway, yelling for the Organization to hurry up and get their arses to the meeting room for an emergency meeting. Demyx blinked, looked down at the note in his hands, and then began to chase after the irate fourth member.

"Wait! Vexen! I _still_ don't get it! Who's James Cameron!?"

oOo **_The End…uh…for now…I guess…_** oOo

**Author's Note** (1 July 2007): I wouldn't, would I?

Oh, yes. I _very_ much would.

And that, my friends, concludes the tumultuously strange trip of **This is Not High School Musical**. It started off on a random whim I had, and it turned out to be…well, still strange. I personally blame, let's see, _Summerland_, _7th Heaven, Hannah Montana,_ and _Hairspray_ for making Kingdom Hearts' connection with High School Musical all the more prominent. Oh, and seven freakin' degrees of separation – I blame you too.

Of course, one of the mystery people provided me a real problem because I still have no idea what color his natural hair is (well, right now it's brown, but it's been blonde for the entire story, so whatever).

Now, here's the kudos part: you guys as reviewers rock like the fishies. Seriously. I don't know how much this fic would have succeeded without you guys (and yes, I do read the reviews – how else do you think I get ideas for some of the random plot ideas?). I'll probably be up for awhile trying to reply to the final reviews (I'm going to try to reply to each and every review of this epilogue, so help me Spartacus!)

Thanks for the favorites and the reviews and the commendation and the wonderful things that made me grin like the goofball I am, and made me want to update very quickly! I hope you guys enjoyed the trip as much as I did.

Speaking of trips, we're definitely in for one of er…_titanic_ proportions this next go around. So I hope to see all you guys in the sequel, and until then, keep frying those fishsticks!

Much thanks, and g'night!

- Nashie


	17. Prologue: Titanic

**_This is Not High School Musical_**

_By Samurai-Nashie_

Disclaimer: Hmmmm...I don't own it.

oOo

Somewhere in the far reaches of the universe, the sound of a typing could be heard.

Since that somehow doesn't narrow it down to any particular area of the universe (at which point the Narrator is glad that it doesn't), let's just ignore that bit of information and peer over the typist's shoulder to see exactly what's going on.

King Mickey glanced over his shoulder and blinked. "Well, can I help you?"

Standing behind him (and apparently behind the invisible reader) was a tall, darkly-cloaked figure, who was tapping his (or her?) foot impatiently on the ground. "You are His Majesty, King Mickey, aren't you?"

The mouse king nodded. "Were you lookin' for me?"

The person smiled amiably. "Actually...yes. There's something I need you to do for me."

"Well, I'm kinda in the middle of somethin'. The Director has been tryin' to stop this crazy idea for the Sora and the gang. But gosh, it doesn't seem to be working so far..." King Mickey's face scrunched up and he sighed, turning back to the computer screen, his gloved hands flying over the keyboard as he continued writing the email.

The person standing behind him laughed. "Really now? Would it be that much a shame if they did go through with it?"

King Mickey paused in his typing. "It really would be."

Silence.

Then, a considerable pause in the typing, as though the typist had just figured out who he was talking to...which in fact, he had...

King Mickey's eyes widened and he spun around, but he was too late.

Darkness quickly enveloped him.

oOo

Some days later, a young man who may or may not have existed in this realm of existance glanced out a window, and then glanced at his watch, and then glanced at his half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Then, as if by magic (which, considering the universe that this story has taken place in, was very likely), a single note fluttered from his ceiling and landed on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Frowning, the young man picked up the note, slightly annoyed by the fact that now there was a nice streak of peanut butter along the lower half of the note. Not that the note was all that long. In fact, the message was quite plain and simple, and if one overlooked the urgency of it, was probably quite quaint.

Probably.

**King Mickey has been kidnapped. We need your help**.

**Have you ever heard of something called _Titanic_?**

The young man groaned, and then looked mournfully down at his sandwich.

"Why is it _always_ me?"

The sandwich, being a sandwich, didn't know quite what to say to that.

"_Damn_..."

oOo

continued in **_This is Not Titanic_**

oOo

**Author's Note** (20 Mar 08): Consider this a post-epilogue, or just a prologue to **This is Not Titanic**. It wasn't until one of the reviewers for this story commented that she didn't even know the sequel existed did I realize the small problem of writing a sequel a handful of _months_ AFTER the original story was done. Honestly, I was wishing that there was a send-all button for all those who had **This is Not High School Musical** on their alerts list (you guys can probably take it off - this story is completely finished now). 

So, for all those who enjoyed this story, and were wondering about the sequel - it does exist.

I guess this actually adds a tiny bit of background to how the current director of the sequel got his job...

Hmmm...

- Nashie


End file.
